The Interview
by moirariordan
Summary: “You guys are just precious, really. Like Troy and Gabriella, but with creepier subtext.” Derek.Casey
1. Part One

The Interview  
By Meagan  
Disclaimer: Life With Derek belongs to the Family Channel, maybe the Disney Channel, or whatever conglomerate owns either or both.

Note: This is an edited version of the first chapter.

00

"It's a film project, not a marathon." Derek put on his best begging face, crouching slightly to reach Casey's level. "Pretty please?"

Hiding a smirk, Casey refused to meet his eyes, instead digging inside her desk for some anonymous, elusive object. "Give me one good reason."

"Uh, if you do this for me, I will…" Derek floundered for a second. "…do the dishes for a week."

"No you won't," Casey said easily.

"Yes I will."

"No, you won't," Casey said again. "Why do you need _me_ to do it anyway? Why don't you ask what's-her-name?"

"'What's-her-name's name is Rebecca. And I can't ask her because…" Derek smirked. "Well, _talking_ isn't exactly her strong point. And I need someone who's good at talking." Casey paused, sensing the insult before it came. "And, well, I thought to myself, 'who would be amazing at blabbing my ear off?' And you instantly sprung to mind."

She snorted. "Not one of your better one-liners, Derek. I find myself unimpressed."

"Yeah, well, it's due tomorrow. I'm a little pressed for time." He stepped backwards and flung himself on her bed, the motion shaking the various books and knickknacks sitting on the shelf above the headboard.

Casey jumped up, frowning. "Derek! Could you refrain from breaking my bed, please?"

"Hey, you're welcome to join me. We could break it together." He leered up at her suggestively.

"Pig." She rolled her eyes, reaching over him to push her books back into place. "You're not being very convincing, here."

"Fine, fine." He pushed himself up into a sitting position, grabbing her wrist. "Casey, please do this for me?" he asked, his face a mask of sincerity. "If you do, I swear on my virtue that I will repay the favor." He laid his free hand over his heart dramatically, grinning.

Casey rolled her eyes and snapped her arm away from him. "Virtue? What virtue?"

"Hey, I have virtue!" She snorted. "Dude, I _totally_ do."

"Don't call me dude," Casey said. "And no, you don't. You have numerous pick up lines, you have every birth control method known to man, you even have three different kinds of wine on hold at any given moment. But virtue – you don't have."

Derek made a face, unfazed. "Okay, what do you want me to swear on, then?"

Casey smirked, thinking for a moment. "Swear on your…car."

"My car?" Derek blanched. "No way."

"Okay," she replied breezily. "Have fun then, I'm sure your professor will love a film about Becky's hair products."

"It's Rebecca," he said sourly. "And you _suck_."

"You want my help, you swear on your car. Those are my terms, and they are infallible." She raised her eyebrow at him. "That means they don't change."

"I know what it means," he snapped. "Okay, okay. Because I need this grade, I, Derek Venturi, swear on my…" he winced, "…car, that I will pay you back for this ginormous favor that you are doing for me."

Casey held out her hand and he shook it, scowling. "Thank you," she said cheerily. "It's your own fault for procrastinating until the night before, you know."

He waved a hand dismissively. "Is it my fault that college professors are such downers about deadlines?"

She blinked. "I…don't even have a comeback for that, Derek. God."

He smirked, rising from the bed. "Sooner or later, Casey MacDonald, I will bring you around to my line of thinking," he said. "That's a promise."

"Your line of thinking?" Casey adopted a faux confused look. "You think?"

"Ha ha." He shook his head. "You just don't know how to have fun."

"I do too," Casey protested, frowning. "Just because I don't serial date with every bimbo in a two-mile radius doesn't mean that I don't enjoy myself –"

"Actually, since I do have my car, it's about a twelve-mile radius," Derek interrupted.

She scowled at him. "You're such a jerk."

"Oh, we're onto name calling now? That's my cue." He headed for the door, swiveling around in the door way to smirk at her. "Be downstairs in an hour."

She bristled at the order. "Excuse me?"

He rolled his eyes. "Be downstairs in an hour, _please_," he said. "You're mine for the rest of the night." With one last passing grin, he left.

Shivering, Casey frowned. "Goody," she said sarcastically. His words ran through her mind again, and tingles raced down her spine. She frowned. "Must be cold in here," she muttered, heading for her open window.

00

Casey trudged down the steps to the bottom floor of the apartment, practically dragging her feet in her foreboding. "Okay, where do you want me?" she asked sullenly.

Derek, fiddling with a tripod, didn't even look up. "Naked in a bedroom."

Heat flooded to her face and she grabbed the nearest object, an errant couch pillow, and chucked it at him. He dodged it easily, laughing. "There will be no more of that, thank you very much."

"You can't ask me something like that without expecting something, come on." She glared at him. "Okay, I'm sorry. Okay? Come sit over here." He gestured to his special recliner, rescued from their home in Ontario.

"You want me to sit in The Derek Chair?" Casey asked incredulously. "Why can't I sit on the couch?" she whined.

"Because I want to frame the shot evenly, and the couch won't work," Derek replied. "Besides, there's _nothing_ wrong with my chair."

"Ugh," Casey said. "It's like, thirty years old, Derek."

"Oh, it can't be more than fifteen," he shot back indignantly.

"It's falling apart at the seams!" Casey exclaimed. "Besides, who knows what kind of germs or diseases you've given it over the years."

Derek sighed heavily. "Casey, will you just _sit_ in the damn chair, _please_?" he snapped.

Casey rolled her eyes. "You don't need to be snippy," she told him primly. Walking over to the recliner, she eyed it warily before sitting down in it gingerly. "There. Happy?"

"Thrilled," he said dryly, turning back to the tripod and adjusting it a bit more.

"So what's this film project about, anyway?" Casey asked, watching him play with his camcorder.

"An interview," Derek said distractedly. "A documentary type thing."

"So you just…what, ask me questions?" He nodded, and Casey pursed her lips. "What kind of questions?" she asked suspiciously.

"Oh, what kind of underwear you own, your sex life, drug habits, your criminal record," Derek remarked sarcastically. "Just questions, Case. He didn't give me a list."

Casey eyed him distrustfully. "What exactly is the point of this assignment?"

Derek shot her a look. "Casey."

"What?" she asked defensively.

He rolled his eyes, huffing. "We're supposed to provoke honesty from a subject."

"Honesty?" Derek nodded. "Okay, why the hell am I doing this, then? Why not ask someone more…willing?"

"I told you," he replied tersely. "It's due tomorrow, and last I checked, you're the only person I know who doesn't have plans on a Friday night." He shook his head. "God, you're so annoying."

"Annoying?" She scoffed. "Sorry, but you forget that I know how you use information against me."

He flinched slightly. "Please, you stopped giving up the juicy stuff years ago."

Casey rolled her eyes. "No questions about sex. I mean it."

"What about your underwear?" Casey glared at him. "Fine. No sex questions. Happy?"

"Yes," she said gladly. "Are you ready yet?"

"Ready enough," he grumbled. "Okay, just relax. You want something?" She tilted her head quizzically. "Some water? Pop? Wine? Valium?"

She grimaced. "I'm good, thanks."

He grinned. "If you're sure." He switched the camera on, zooming out so that the frame captured Casey's upper body and the back of the recliner. "All right, going live…now." He flipped the 'record' switch, and a small red light blinked on. "Derek Venturi, Film 315, Professor Weston." He looked up at Casey, who was sitting demurely in the chair, her face blank. 'Ready?' he mouthed. She shrugged. "Okay. Welcome to my film project, subject. What's your name?"

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Casey MacDonald."

"How old are you?"

"I turn twenty-one next month."

"Oh, that's right. The seventh, right?"

She nodded, surprised that he remembered. "Yeah."

"Where do you go to school?"

She sighed. "The same place you go, Derek."

He scowled. "Okay, humor me, princess."

Casey leaned back slightly, crossing her arms over her chest. "University of Toronto."

"What's your major?"

She tilted her head at him. "Classical Literature. With a double minor in Creative Writing and English."

"Hmm." He paused a moment, pensive. "What do you want to do after you graduate?"

Casey shrugged. "Get a job. Preferably one that pays enough so I can afford my own apartment," she said pointedly.

"Oh, that can't be a barb directed at your handsome, dashing roommate, can it?" he asked, smirking.

"Oh, never," she said, just as sardonically.

"Okay. What kind of job?"

Casey paused for a second. "Uh, I'm not sure yet," she said finally.

"Wait, you don't have every minute detail planned out?" He gasped dramatically. "Stop the presses, Casey's human?"

"Shut up." She rolled her eyes. "I have a vague idea, but I don't know specifically, no. Does anyone?"

"No, but you're not anyone," Derek shot back. "So what's your vague idea?"

"Well, I want to write," she said thoughtfully. "Fiction, preferably, so I could try going freelance. Or I could go on to get my masters, or my teaching certificate."

"What would you do with that?"

"Teach." She shrugged. "Maybe. I don't know yet."

"Well, which is it? Writer or teacher?"

She bit her lip. "I…I'm not sure. Either way, I'll use my literature background."

He nodded, pausing to think again. "So, creative writing. What do you write?"

"Stories." She shrugged. "Fiction. Poems. Haikus. Songs. It's creative writing, so I write…creatively."

"Which do you like writing the most?"

She thought for a second. "Stories. I want…I think, if I were to be a writer, I'd write stories. Novels."

"Why?" Derek challenged.

"What?"

"Why would you want to be a novelist? What's so great about fiction writing?"

"I'd want to express myself," she said, frowning. "And I think I could do that the best through fiction."

"How does that work?" She raised her eyebrows, confused. "I mean, just explain it to me," he elaborated. "How do you express _your_ personality, if you're writing about _fictional_ characters?"

"Because they're not fictional to me," she said, her face scrunched in concentration. She was silent a moment, gathering her thoughts. "The people I write about," she began slowly, "are just extensions of myself. They're a way for me to communicate my emotions and my opinions in a way that I understand."

"Through characters."

"…yes."

"Isn't that just an excuse?" he asked bluntly.

"Huh?"

"It's an easy way out. You want to express yourself, but you're too afraid to do it in your real life, so you make up people to do it for you. But it's diluted because it's secondhand. It doesn't give you the satisfaction that you need."

Casey blinked stupidly, taken aback. "That's true, in a very two-dimensional way," she said, her ire rising. "But there's more to it than that. It's not just escapism."

"Yes it is," he said. "That's what books and movies and TV shows are, they're ways for people to escape from life. And you are immersed in fiction 24/7, so that makes you the ultimate escapist."

"What?" she snapped. "That's ridiculous."

"Is it?"

"Yes," she insisted. "If you take that route, then everything is escapism, Derek. Not just literature and TV – but music, sports, schoolwork, everything. Even someone's career can be their escape," she said. "Writing isn't an escape from my life, it _is_ my life. My work. It's who I am."

"So you define yourself by your writing?" Derek asked, raising an eyebrow.

"In some ways," she said. "But we all define ourselves by everything we do. If hockey were erased from your life, then you wouldn't be the same person that you were before. Or if you take away film school, or Marti and Edwin, or your revolving door girlfriends, or your car," she listed, raising an eyebrow. "Those are all things that you love, and without them, you'd be less…_Derek_."

He eyed her silently for a few moments, before taking a breath. "Okay. How else do you define yourself?"

She leaned back, coming down from her rant. "My studies. My friends. My family."

He raised an eyebrow. "You could be a bit more specific than that."

She smirked. "Fine. Emily, Parker, Ashley – plus everyone else I hang out with from time to time – "

"You still keep in touch with Emily?" he interrupted incredulously.

"Yes," she replied. "She was my best friend."

"You haven't seen her in three years."

"So? We talk still." Derek stared at her, disbelieving. "Hey, she was my friend before she was your ex-girlfriend. Back off."

"Whatever. Go on."

She shook her head, distracted. "Uh, friends. My mother, George, my father, Lizzie, Edwin, Marti," she paused, taking a breath, "you…"

"I'm honored," he said dryly.

She continued on, ignoring him. "Writing. Music. Poetry. Gourmet cooking. Books." She paused, thinking. "Hiking. The ocean. White wine. Movies with Audrey Hepburn or Gregory Peck."

He raised an eyebrow when she stopped. "Is that it?"

"No." She sighed. "Do you really want me to list every single thing that I like and enjoy doing?"

"Just the important ones."

"Then yes, that's it." He just looked at her, face passive. "What?"

He jerked slightly. "Nothing." Looking down at the floor, he cleared his throat. "Uh, next question, next question…"

She grinned slightly. "Stuck?"

"I'll get one," he said defensively. He jumped on his heels slightly. "Why did you agree to move in with me?"

She was quiet a moment, almost stunned by the change in topic. "Because you had a gorgeous apartment and I couldn't afford to live on my own. Plus I despised the dorms."

"You couldn't have found a different roommate? There are people who would kill to have someone to split rent with," Derek pointed out.

Casey shrugged. "I knew you. I didn't know anyone else when I came here."

"Yeah, but you hated living with me back home."

"I still hate living with you," Casey said. "So?"

He scoffed. "So why are you here?"

She bristled at his tone. "Do you not want me here?"

"I didn't say that."

"You implied it," she shot back.

He rolled his eyes. "God, you're such a _girl_," he said resentfully. "I just don't see why you keep living with me when I apparently am the bane of your existence."

"You're not the bane of my existence, Derek," she said tiredly. "You annoy me, yes, but I could have a lot worse in a roommate."

"Uh huh," he said disbelievingly.

"What?"

"How many times have you yelled at me over the stupidest little things, Casey?"

She blanched. "Stupid things? What stupid things?"

"Uh, let's see. 'You left towels on the bathroom floor again, Derek!' 'You left the toilet seat up, Derek!' 'Don't drink from the carton, Derek!' 'Pick up your hockey gear, Derek!'" He raised his voice to a higher pitch, waving his arms around in a juvenile impression.

"I do not sound like that, you reject," she snapped. "And I yell at you for that stuff because it irritates me that I have to drag the tiniest amount of consideration out of you."

"I consider you," Derek defended himself.

"Oh really?" Casey asked. "When was the last time that you actually picked up your towels or used a glass with your milk?" She smiled triumphantly at his silence. "My point exactly."

"Actually, I think you're proving my point."

"You have a point?" Casey snarked.

"That you stick around here for no reason?" Derek asked. "Yes. That's my point."

"I already gave you my reasons," Casey snapped, her temper rising.

"No, you gave me rationalizations," he said. "You didn't tell me why you continue to live here, in the same apartment, with me, Derek Venturi, of your own volition. Not because our parents are married, not because we're stuck in the same house, not because of money problems. You live here because you want to, for some unknown reason." He crossed his arms, looking her in the eye. "All I want is for you to tell me why."

Casey stared back at him, breathing hard. "Why are you pushing this?"

"Why won't you answer?" he shot back angrily, suddenly furious for no apparent reason.

There was a long, tense silence in which the pair stared each other down. Finally, chest tight, Casey burst. "I don't know, okay? I don't know!"

"I think you do."

She clamped her mouth shut, shaking her head. She stood up, glaring at him. "I'm done." She turned on her heel and stormed past him, heading for the stairs.

"Fine," he called after her. "Thanks _so_ much for the interview, Case! I'm sure to get an A!"

"Go to hell!"

"You first!"

00

Note: Many thanks to the multiple reviewers who pointed out my Toronto/Ontario mistake, but really guys. It was a typo. No need to keep informing me what the capital of Ontario is. Therefore, the infamous typo is now fixed.


	2. Part Two

Okay, so _a lot_ of people contacted me about the typo in the first chapter, where Casey said that she would go back to Ontario from TO, or something like that. That was a mistake on my part. Considering that I don't know the name of Casey and Derek's hometown, I just put 'Ontario' whenever I brought it up.

And I'm sorry for whoever I offended? It was a mistake, honest. I kind of like Toronto, I've been there several times, and I wouldn't want it to think that I forgot which province it lives in and then feel bad. Sorry, TO.

00

Part Two

00

The door to Casey's room slammed open, causing her to jump a foot in the air. She looked up from her book, her hand automatically going to cover her heart. "What the hell, Derek?"

"Here." He tossed a VHS tape on the bed next to her.

She picked it up, looking at the side, labeled 'Derek Venturi – Casey.' "What is this?"

"The interview." She looked up at him quizzically. "Professor Weston wants us to give our subjects a copy."

"Why?"

"I don't know," he said, exasperated. "Just…there. Okay? It's yours." He turned around and stormed out, muttering under his breath.

Rolling her eyes, she abandoned her textbook and went after him. "Well, what'd you get?" He ignored her, jogging down the stairs and into the kitchen. "Derek!" He shot her a look over his shoulder and moved to the fridge, taking out a bottle of beer and popping the top. "De – _rek_."

He took a long swig, and she watched the motions of his throat as he swallowed. Setting the bottle down on the counter, he finally looked over at her. "I got a hundred."

"A hundred what?" she asked blankly. He scoffed. "Wait – a hundred _percent_?" He shrugged. "A perfect score? You got a perfect score for that stupid interview we did last week?" He nodded. "Are you joking?"

"Nope."

"How the hell did that happen?" she asked incredulously. "We got into a fight. I stormed out. We bickered the entire time."

Derek looked down. "He gave me a feedback sheet."

"What did it say?" Derek was silent, and she sighed. "Okay, then, where's the sheet?"

"Why?"

"Cuz I wanna frame it," she muttered, catching sight of his shoulder bag on the counter. Seeing what she was looking at, he narrowed his eyes and tensed. In one swift motion, she raced forward and grabbed the strap, pulling it out of his reach just as he went for it. "Ha!"

"Shut up." He looked at her stonily. "Give it back."

"I wanna read it."

"No!"

"Derek, c'mon!" She grinned. "Your first A plus. How adorable."

"Shut _up_."

"It was thanks to me, in part," she pointed out. "And the professor made you give me a copy, so obviously the 'subject,'" she imitated a faux-snooty tone, using finger quotes, "was important to the project."

His jaw clenched and he moved back to his previous spot at the counter. "Fine, read it. I don't care."

She smiled triumphantly. "Ah, giving up so early. You must be in a _really_ bad mood." She dumped the bag on the counter, unzipping it and taking out the green binder that she knew Derek used for his film classes. Flipping through the pages, she grimaced. "God, can you even read your own handwriting?"

"Most of the time," he said sullenly, taking another long pull from his beer.

"What I'd give to make you let me organize this thing," she muttered. He rolled his eyes and stayed silent, ignoring the familiar argument. "Ah, here it is," she said, finding a photocopied sheet folded in half and stuck in the pocket on the back cover. Scanning the paper, she skimmed through it, mumbling to herself. "Good format…perfect framing and atmosphere…" she moved down, finding what she was looking for. "'Interesting choice of subject,'" she recited, reading the professor's words. "'The place that this woman has in your life was clearly and honestly shown through both the questions you asked and the way that she answered them. Even with the abrupt ending, the interview was more than enough to make your feelings for each other clear.'" She paused, looking up at Derek, who was studying his beer bottle with unwavering intensity. "Uh…okay. He thinks that…"

"That we're together," Derek finished. "Or…whatever."

"Oh." The kitchen suddenly felt very small, and Casey's breathing quickened. Forcing a laugh, she dropped the paper as if it were on fire. "Well, that's ridiculous. Us, a couple. Wow." She laughed again, and it sounded high and tense even to her own ears. "Completely ludicrous."

"Yeah." Derek's voice was tense, and he still wasn't looking at her. "Ludicrous."

There was a prolonged silence that nearly choked Casey with its intensity, and she found herself fixated on the back of Derek's neck, where his hair brushed the collar of his jacket. Her spine was stiff as a board, and she realized with a start that her hands were shaking. "Uh, okay. I'm gonna…go…away," she stammered. "Bye." And locking her hands behind her back, she retreated, feeling his eyes on her back.

00

Casey sighed, hitched her bag higher on her shoulder as she dug in her purse for her keys. Finally grasping the cool metal keychain, she unlocked the door quickly and pushed her way in, immediately dumping her overflowing bag in the middle of the hallway in an uncharacteristic move of laziness.

Locking the door behind her, she shed her jacket, purse and scarf on the hat stand and kicked her new heeled boots off – which made her feet throb, thank you very much – in front of the closet, not having the energy to open the door and put them away.

She trudged into the living room and headed straight for the couch, collapsing in an exhausted heap.

"Long day?"

Casey moaned into the cushions. "Do not even ask."

"Okay," Derek replied easily, focusing back on the hockey game.

"I missed two deadlines because my laptop crashed this morning, not to mention that my meeting with the department head ran late so that I missed the 12:30 bus to the campus," Casey burst out. Derek quirked a grin and looked over at her, raising his eyebrows. "So I ended up hitching a ride with Mr. Davies, who has not bought a new car since 1968, and probably hasn't washed it since then either." Casey wrenched herself into a sitting position, pulling her sweater off to reveal the tank top underneath. "He had an 8-track player, Derek. A freaking 8-track. And he listens to Ted Nugent."

Derek snorted a laugh. "And we all know how you adore the Nuge, Case."

"Yeah," Casey retorted. "I'm a real huge fan." She shook her head, blowing her bangs out of her eyes. "So of course, he drives as fast as my grandfather, so I'm twenty minutes late to my poetry class. And I walk in, and – pop quiz. On the material that we learned last week when I had the flu." She sighed. "And of course that bitchy professor made me take it." She groaned, collapsing back into the cushions. "I want to curl up into a little ball and disappear."

"Well, it could've been worse," Derek said, considering.

"How?"

"Uh…it could've been raining?" Derek guessed. Casey bit her lip, resisting a smile. "You could've been attacked by a serial killer. Or hit on by a nerd. Or worse – a math major."

She finally broke into a grin, scowling at him playfully. "Shut up. I don't wanna be cheered up yet."

"All right. I can refrain from speaking on the off chance that you find anything I say funny."

"Maybe you should refrain from doing anything at all then," Casey shot back, unable to stop her grin. She saw his shake his head, smiling, out of the corner of her eye. Focusing on the game he was watching, she rolled her eyes. "Oilers?"

"Uh huh."

"Predictable."

The two fell into a comfortable silence, the noises from the television the only sound in the room. Thinking idly that she should probably go to her room and get started on her homework, she succumbed to her exhaustion and fell into a dreamy, light doze, the muted cheers from the game dulling her senses.

"Casey."

She awoke with a start, feeling someone's hands on her shoulders. Blinking, she looked up to see Derek crouched down beside her position on the couch. "What?" she asked sleepily, yawning.

"I didn't think you wanted to spend the night on the couch," he replied. "Come on." He grabbed her arm, holding her steady as she climbed to her feet on weary legs.

"Uh, I have…an essay due," she mumbled. "I should work on it."

Leading her up the stairs, he smirked. "I don't think you're awake enough to work on anything."

"No, I should work on it. I just need some coffee." Belaying her words, her head fell against his shoulder, another yawn working its way from her mouth. "It's…uh…" another yawn, "due on Monday, and I'm going to lunch with Parker tomorrow, and…uh…"

"Casey?"

"What?"

"Stop talking." Half awake, she didn't protest as he kicked her bedroom door open with his foot, leading her to the bed firmly. "Sleep," he said sternly. "Or I'll take away your laptop."

"It's crashed anyway." Still, she lay down on her bed, instantly feeling all the fight leave her. Her eyelids drooped, and with one last, grasping thought, she looked up at Derek and mumbled something intelligible.

"What?" Derek asked, leaning over her. But Casey was already asleep, steady breaths making her chest rise and fall evenly.

He stood there for a few moments, staring at the picture she made, before shaking his head and straightening up. He turned and left the room, brow furrowed, and closed the door softly behind him.

00

"So let me get this straight." Parker Forrester jabbed her straw into her iced mocha drink, swirling around the last remains of the ice. "You let him interview you for his film project, knowing going into it that he has to provoke _honesty_ from you, and then you're _surprised_ when you get into a fight over nothing?"

"It wasn't over nothing," Casey protested. "He just kept pushing. He was being an ass."

"Of course he was being an ass," Parker pointed out. "That's who he is. All men are asses. But you seem to take it personally every single time Derek displays his male tendencies."

"I do not!" Parker just stared at her, and she relented. "Okay, fine, sometimes I take it personally." 

Her friend snorted, flipping her dusty red bangs out of her eyes in a swift toss of her head. "Try all the time."

"Well how else am I supposed to take it?" Casey asked, playing with her empty coffee cup sullenly. "I mean, back home, it wasn't like he was out to get me. He just took whatever opportunities came up to make fun of me. Now it's like he deliberately seeks me out, just to make me feel bad." Casey frowned in a vaguely hurt expression. "Like that interview. He could've easily asked someone else and got just as good of a grade, but he chose me, and ended up goading me into a fight."

"Duh." Parker rolled her eyes. "He does that because that's the only mode he has with you."

"What?" Casey asked, confused. "What does that mean?"

"Exactly what it sounds like," Parker said matter-of-factly. "I only met you two when you moved here for college, but from what you've told me, you two started fighting as soon as you and your family moved into his house, and you haven't stopped since. Right?"

"More or less."

"So he doesn't know any other way to interact with you." Parker sat up straighter in her chair, a knowing expression flitting over her face. "You know when you're in grade two or three, and a boy likes you, so he teases you and pulls your hair and steals your lunch money?" Casey frowned and nodded. "It's the same concept."

"What?" Casey asked, skeptical. "How did you get that from me telling you that he goads me 24/7?"

"It's simple psychology, Case. Derek wants to be closer to you, except he doesn't know how to approach you, because the entire time you've known each other, your relationship has been based on fighting. So he just does the same thing as he's always done, except accelerated, because he wants your attention." Parker shrugged. "Of course there might also be a sexual aspect to it. You get all flushed and sweaty when you're mad."

"_Sexual_?" Casey dropped the cup she was holding, the last remaining drops of her coffee splattering all over her jacket. She took no notice. "Oh my God. Okay, I don't know what you're smoking, but you need some serious rehab."

"Hello?" Parker asked, unfazed. "Who's the psych major here?"

Casey shook her head, face flushed. "This is ridiculous. Plain ridiculous. I can't even imagine what – that's…that's just…" she stammered, floundering for words.

"Ridiculous?" Parker offered.

"Yes!" Casey exclaimed. "You and that stupid professor are both – "

"What professor?"

"Oh, Derek's film teacher thought we were together after watching the interview." Parker raised an eyebrow and smirked. "But we're not! It's just an anomaly."

"You know, there's this dissertation on the state of clinical denial I could let you borrow," Parker offered, grinning. "It's really fascinating stuff."

Casey snapped her mouth shut and glared at her friend. "Can we talk about something else? As in, besides Derek?"

Parker stared at her from over the rim of her cup. "Sure." Adopting an innocent expression, she tilted her head and smiled at her friend. "So…what was that essay you were telling me about for your Lit class?"

Casey took a breath, relieved to be back on a safe topic. "Oh, well, we were supposed to write about a personal challenge that we experienced in our own lives, and how it relates to the novel we're reading."

"Oh," Parker said. "And what did you write about?"

"Living with De – " she stopped. "I hate you."

"You _love_ me," Parker said triumphantly.

"Shut up."

00

"Damn it!" Casey slammed into the apartment, throwing her purse across the hallway and into the back of the closet door. "Stupid know-it-all – doesn't know what the hell she's talking about," she muttered angrily, stomping through the bottom floor of the apartment stormily. "I'd hate to be one of her patients, the fraud…I have half a mind to…"

"Have a fight with the missus?" Derek asked, raising an eyebrow at her dramatic entrance.

Casey spared him a look, and then did a double take. He was leaning against the kitchen counter, obviously fresh from the shower. His button up shirt was slightly rumpled and the top three buttons were unhooked, revealing a hint of smooth, tan skin. His hair was still damp, lying in disarray across his forehead. He was munching on a piece of toast, his jaw moving rhythmically. He looked fresh and clean and sharp, and Casey's stomach plummeted. _Oh holy God, I just checked him out_. "Wh – what?"

Derek swallowed, shooting her a weird look. "Did you have a fight with Parker?"

"Oh." She bit her lip, switching her gaze to the sink, avoiding his eyes. "Yeah. A small one, she was just being…" she shrugged, "a psych major."

Derek chuckled. "Point. Why I never dated her."

"I thought you never dated her because her hair wasn't blond enough," Casey snapped, instinctively going on the defense.

Derek tossed the rest of his toast in the sink, looking at her strangely again, taken aback by her vehemence. "Panties in a twist, Case?"

"Shut up," Casey barked. "What are you still doing here, anyway? Don't you have a date with Linda?"

"Lisa," Derek snapped. "And yeah. Though I don't know why I'm going, since it'd _obviously_ be so much more fun to stick around here and listen to you bitch at me."

"Just go," Casey said angrily. "I don't want to waste the breath."

Derek stood there for a moment, staring at her in disbelief. Then his face darkened and he shook his head. "Whatever," he said darkly, brushing past her roughly on his way out of the kitchen.

Casey stood frozen, one hand clutching the kitchen counter so tightly that her knuckles were white. A few seconds later, she heard the door slam, and she jumped, biting her lip. She looked around the empty kitchen blankly, her stomach somewhere in the vicinity of her feet.

"I…am in so much trouble," she whispered.

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	3. Part Three

All apologies to any hockey buffs. I know, um…nothing about the game. Also don't take any of my psychology ramblings seriously, it's mostly bullshit.

00

Part Three

00

Casey fidgeted nervously, shifting her weight back and forth from one leg to the other. "Suck it up," she muttered, and finally knocked on the door.

A few moments later the apartment door swung open, revealing a bedraggled Parker, her hair in disarray and eyes blurry from sleep. "Casey?" Parker squinted from the early morning light pouring in from the hallway. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"You have to come with me tonight," Casey hissed, pushing past the redhead and storming into the apartment.

"What? Come where?"

"To Derek's hockey game!" Casey threw her hands up in the air. "I can't go alone now. I need you there."

"Uh…" Parker shook her head, blinking. "Am I still dreaming?"

"_Parker_!" 

"Casey, calm down. Just tell me what the problem is." She pulled her frazzled friend down onto the couch. "Preferably slowly and clearly, as I haven't had my coffee yet."

Casey flung herself backwards into the cushions, exhaling loudly. "It's all your fault. You, with all your 'it's simple psychology Case!' and 'he just wants to be closer to you, Case!' You've got my head all backwards," she accused.

Parker stared at her blankly. "Let me guess. This is about Derek."

"Of course it's about Derek," she said.

Parker rolled her eyes. "Just tell me what's going on, please?"

Casey huffed. "You hit me with all of your – psychology, logic…_stuff_, and I went home thinking you were insane, and then Derek's there, just…_standing_ there, eating _toast_, and he's just…showered, and all…_clean_, and…aarrgh!" She shot up from the couch, falling into an anxious pace around the length of Parker's living room. "And I picked a fight, and he left to go on a date – of course – and he didn't come home until late and – and I am _freaking out_!"

Parker watched her movements with wide eyes. "I'm getting that."

"This is all your fault," Casey said again. "I was fine, before this. Derek and I weren't the best of friends, but at least we had a routine! It was civil…most of the time." Casey shook her head, her hands fluttering around nervously. "And now you just…slapped me in the face with it, and I'm going crazy, having all these _thoughts_, and – "

Parker stood up, cutting her off. "Casey, chill. You're gonna have a panic attack, or a nervous breakdown, or something."

Casey's hands moved to her hips and she stopped pacing. "This cannot be healthy," she snapped, ignoring her friend. "I'm not even sure it's _legal_."

"Casey, come on – "

Cutting Parker off, Casey's hands flew to her mouth. "Oh God, do you know what this is? This is Jerry Springer material. I am now officially a Jerry Springer candidate."

"Casey!" Parker barked. "Stop it. Calm. Down."

Casey's eyebrows pulled together and she collapsed into an armchair, looking up at her friend pathetically. "I'm so screwed."

"You're not screwed." Parker went over and kneeled next to the distraught Casey. "Now, look. You're not crazy, you're just uptight. And you're definitely not Jerry Springer material." She risked a smile. "To qualify for Jerry nowadays, you've got to have a couple marriages, a few illegitimate children, maybe some midgets. And last I checked you're definitely midget-free."

Casey let out a laugh, which sounded more like a sob. "Oh my God, what am I going to do?"

Parker tucked an errant strand of hair behind Casey's ear, smiling sadly. "You're going to live your life, sweetie. And you're going to let things happen as they happen. Okay?" Casey nodded. "Okay. And no more panic attacks, okay?"

"Okay." Casey bit her lip. "You've got to come with me tonight to his game, though. I can't go alone, not now."

"You live with him, hon, you're gonna have to be alone with him at some point," Parker pointed out.

"I know, but not so soon," Casey said anxiously. "I can avoid him today, and I just need a buffer at the hockey game. Then I can leave before he gets out of the locker room and be in bed by the time he gets home."

Parker raised an eyebrow. "So what are you gonna do, hide in your room until you graduate?"

"No," Casey protested. "Just…for a couple days or so." Parker frowned. "Okay, just for today? I just need a breather. Please?"

"Fine." Parker pointed a finger at her. "But I will not, under any circumstances, make up an excuse so you can leave early."

"That's fine," Casey said, smiling in relief. "Thank you so much."

"Yeah, yeah, okay," Parker grumbled. "Now get up, crazy girl, you owe me a serious caffeine fix for this little display."

00

Hockey was a contact sport. Casey knew this. It didn't, however, stop her from flinching every time a player got body-checked.

"Oh jeez," she muttered, hissing through her teeth as she saw a player slam into the side boards.

"He's on the other team, Case, that was a good thing," Parker said.

"It's still barbaric," Casey said, shaking her head.

"This coming from the girl who dragged me here by my hair," her friend grumbled. Casey rolled her eyes and ignored her.

Her eyes traced the action of the game, her gaze falling on Derek instinctually. Though she'd never admit it, she'd always been impressed with his skill on the ice. He skated purposefully and forcefully, every movement made with cool confidence. She watched as he deftly avoided an oncoming player and stole the puck, turning in the opposite direction in a shower of ice shards, passing it down towards the home goal, all in the span of a couple seconds. She shivered, burrowing deeper into her coat.

"So, do you actually understand anything that's happening here?" Parker asked, breaking through Casey's slight daze. She blinked and looked over at her friend, who was leaning over on the bench, her forearms on her thighs, watching the action intently. "Because all I'm getting is a bunch of overdressed people fighting over what looks like a huge, black pepperoni."

Casey snorted. "You're asking me?" She shrugged. "Get the puck in the net and don't get killed. That's about the extent of my knowledge."

"It's intriguing, that's for sure," Parker continued. "I mean, you definitely need skill and strength, but it's not as obvious as other sports. It's sleeker, more…subtle. The only thing I'd assume is that the athletes who enjoy this would most likely have some sort of animus complex for them to embrace the kind of mindset that this game requires wholeheartedly. Right?"

Casey looked over at her, eyes wide. "Puck in net. Don't get killed," she repeated dumbly.

Parker snapped her eyes from the rink and grinned. "Sorry."

"No problem."

"Okay, so which one is Derek?" the redhead asked.

"Number eighty-seven. He's back there," Casey said, pointing to the far side of the rink. "See?"

"I see him," Parker replied. "Huh. He's good. I think. He seems good – is he good?"

"Uh, I think so," Casey said uncertainly. "He wins a lot. And his coach loves him. So yeah, I guess he's good."

"This is so confusing," Parker said, shaking her head. "I can't even see the damn puck thing most of the time. All I see is big bulky people. It's like watching a bunch of Stay Puft Marshmallow men play bumper cars."

Casey snorted. "Tell me about it. But George always calls me and makes me describe the game to him in intimate detail whenever he misses. Which is why I always come when he gets caught up in work."

"You describe? In detail?"

Casey shrugged. "I just say 'check' and 'goal' a lot and he seems to get excited."

Parker shook her head incredulously. "Okay, so you wanna tell me why you needed me to come so badly?" she asked after a moment.

Casey avoided her gaze, trailing Derek's form across the ice. "I needed back up."

"For what? Do you even know anyone here?"

"Yes," Casey defended. "Why do you think I made us take the seats away from everyone else?"

"Casey…"

"What? Every person sitting over there is a regular. They see me every time I come, they remember my name, my major, my eye color, my soda preference – everything." She pointed over to the group of fans pressed up against the glass separating the crowd from the ice, all screaming and cheering enthusiastically, dressed in the Toronto Blues' team colors, waving pennants and signs. "And more importantly, they're all friends or family with Derek's entire team. Which means that anything I let slip to them, I let slip to Derek, times a hundred, since they also exaggerate a lot."

Parker sighed. "Okay, I get it."

"Oh God, there's one now." Casey grabbed Parker's arm, turning her face down, letting her hair fall down to obscure her features. "Shit. I knew this was going to happen."

"Miss Casey!" The two women turned to see an older man, dressed in bulky clothing, striding over to their seats. "I didn't see you there. What are you doin' all the way over here in the boondocks?"

Casey bit her lip and put on a smile. "Hey Ben. I'm here with a friend tonight." She stood up to meet the visitor, dragging Parker up with her. "This is Parker Forrester. Parker, this is Ben Robertson, he's Tim's uncle."

Ben grinned warmly and shook Parker's hand boisterously. His face was open and friendly, the laugh lines around his eyes and face adding character to his features. "Tim plays center," Ben said proudly. "And it's nice to meet you. Are you Derek's new girl that he keeps going on about?" Casey rose her eyebrows.

Parker snorted. "God, no."

Ben laughed loudly. "Wise choice."

Casey chuckled weakly. "So how's Rachel?"

Ben waved a hand. "Fine, fine. She's got her hands full with this PTA bake sale coming up – I never thought we'd get sick of chocolate, but Haley and I've about had it."

"Rachel is Ben's wife," Casey explained to Parker. "Haley's their youngest, in…third grade, right?"

"Third grade, going on twelfth," he replied fondly. "But I see her a right more often than I see you. How the hell are you?"

Casey shrugged, smiling shyly. "Oh, fine. Writing. School. You know."

"I do. Maybe not as well as you," he replied. "I read that story of yours, the one in the Core newspaper. Tim brought home a copy."

"Oh, really?" Casey said, surprised.

"Yeah, it was fantastic," Ben said, slipping an arm around her shoulders. "Rachel loved it. She even saved the clipping."

Casey blushed. "Oh, it wasn't that great."

"Bullshit!" Ben laughed. "She's too shy, isn't she?"

Parker nodded, amused. "Oh, way too shy. She drags me everywhere."

"Parker!"

Ben laughed. "You're the next Charlotte Bronte, m'dear. Feel free to put in another author of your choice, you'd know better than I."

Casey shrugged, smiling. "Bronte's fine with me, Ben."

A loud crash echoed from the rink just then, and all three of their heads whipped to the front, seeing a pile of three players who had just crashed in a dogpile near to where they were standing. The crowd of fans erupted in boos and calls, and the referees skated quickly over to the fallen athletes. "Oh, I better go see what that was all about." He bent down and gave Casey a warm hug. "Don't be a stranger, Miss Casey."

"I won't," Casey said, laughing fondly.

Ben swatted her hair playfully, turning to Parker and nodding briefly. "Nice to meet you as well," he said.

"Likewise," she replied. He meandered back over to his group, throwing a wave over his shoulder. The two women waved back, smiling.

"Oh man," Casey groaned, when he was out of earshot.

"Yeah, I can see why you needed back up," Parker commented. "That was horrible. He was friendly and nice, and he even complimented your writing! What a _bastard_."

"Shut up," Casey said, pulling Parker back down to the bench. "Tim is a good friend of Derek's. Ben works for a production company that makes documentaries, just like Derek wants to do, so they get together a lot."

"Okay," Parker said breezily. "So, I'm Derek's 'new girl?'"

"Ugh, you're annoying."

"What? Derek has 'new girls' a lot?"

"Of course he does," Casey said irritably. "He's Derek."

"Yeah, but has he even talked about his 'new girls' to his older, patriarchal mentor figure before?"

"Ben is not patriarchal," Casey argued. "To Derek, anyway. I caught them singing Monty Python together once."

Parker smirked. "Honey, any older male is patriarchal, especially to a younger male."

"Why are we talking about this?" Casey asked, keeping her eyes fixated on the game.

"I dunno, but I'm baiting and you're avoiding."

"I am not avoiding."

"Oh yes you are," Parker said. "You are very avoidant. You admitted that you're avoiding Derek."

Casey huffed. "Can you please keep it down? I'm watching the Stay Pufts."

Parker narrowed her eyes at her friend. "Admit it. You're obsessing right now over the 'new girl.'"

"Am not," Casey rebuked.

"Are too," Parker shot back. "You're obsessing, thinking about what kind of girl could possibly hold Derek's attention long enough for him to talk about it with Ben."

Casey gritted her teeth. "Shut. Up."

"Considering his history, she's probably blonde," Parker said logically, still goading the agitated brunette. "Probably a little spacey, but in a friendly way." She grinned, seeing Casey's leg start to bounce agitatedly. "Ooh, she's probably a _fashion major_."

"Ugh, shut up!" Casey punctuated her exclamation with a hard shove to Parker's side, causing the redhead to fall halfway off the bench and erupt into giggles. "Why do I hang out with you? Seriously. I must have a complex for people who love to make me angry."

"It's because you scare us when you're all serious, toots," Parker teased, still laughing.

"I am watching the game," Casey said pointedly.

"Yeah, okay, whatever. Watch the marshmallow men scrambling for the black pepperoni."

"Hush," Casey said, fighting back laughter.

"Bump, cars, bump!"

00

"Okay, so how does this work? Do you usually meet Derek after he gets out of the locker room?" Parker asked, pulling on her gloves.

Casey shrugged, stepping back against the wall to avoid the rush of people leaving the stadium. "Sometimes. He usually goes out for drinks with the team after he wins, though."

"Yeah. Okay. Am I the only one who didn't realize that it was over until they all started leaving the ice?"

Casey smirked. "You mean you thought all the jumping and yelling they did was a part of the game?"

"Hey, I never said I was a sports buff," Parker argued.

Casey shook her head, smiling. "C'mon, let's get outta here. I wanna be gone before the team gets out."

"Um, think again, Avoidy Girl." Parker smirked, digging her hands into her pockets and motioning with her chin to behind Casey's back. "Hot stepbrother at six o'clock."

Casey froze, her face going pale. "What?"

"Casey."

She jumped, turning around. "Derek," she said, startled. "You're…here."

He frowned. "Um, yeah. So are you." He raised an eyebrow. "Did you stop avoiding me, or are you just lost?"

"Avoiding?" Casey laughed nervously. "No avoiding. Just…busy. Busy things. You know." She shrugged.

"Uh huh." He looked skeptical. He opened his mouth to say something else, when a loud yell cut him off.

"VEN – TUR – I!" Two hundred and forty pounds of teammate tackled Derek, bringing them both to the ground. Casey took a step back, throwing a panicked look at Parker, who just smirked. "Aw, man, I would kiss you, if you weren't all sweaty and shit."

Derek grunted. "I'll let you kiss me, if you get off me, dude."

Grinning, the newcomer climbed off his teammate, climbing to his feet and looking up at Casey sheepishly. "Oh, hey Case. Long time no see."

"Hey Tim," Casey said resignedly. "Good game tonight."

"Wasn't it?" Tim pounded a newly standing Derek on the back, propelling him forward several steps. "This man was magic, I tell you. His skates didn't even touch the ice, he was that inspired. Poetry in motion, man. Fucking awesome."

"See, I keep saying that to everyone I meet, but you're the only one who believes me," Derek said, grinning.

"The nerve! That's why you and I – we stick together, dude." Tim bumped his fist with Derek's. "Bros over hoes." He turned to the girls. "No offense."

Casey rolled her eyes and Parker rose her eyebrows. "None taken," she said.

Tim did a double take, dropping his arm from Derek's shoulder. "Hello, redhead," he said. "Why don't I know your name?"

Parker shot Casey a look, who bit her lip to keep from grinning. "Are you for real?"

"Very real. Very, very real." Tim blew out a breath, whistling through his teeth.

"Oh my God," Parker said, covering her mouth and turning to Casey to conceal her amusement. "Did he just whistle at me?"

Derek laughed. "Give it up, man."

Tim waved at Derek. "At least gimme your name," he reasoned.

Parker turned to him, one eyebrow cocked. "Parker," she said.

"Parker, Parker, Parker," Tim said thoughtfully. "I like it. Rhymes with…knockers." Casey snorted loudly and Parker bit her lip.

"I'm not feeling the poetry, Tim," Derek said, grinning.

"Whatever." Tim puffed out his chest. "I'm savin' all my best lines for the party tonight. You should come," he said, leering at Parker. "You too, Case. We could use some class."

"No, they shouldn't come," Derek said, his mood suddenly dour. "Tim…"

"What?" Tim grinned innocently. "C'mon, your sister's great." He looked at Casey. "Great. Like, inspiring works of art great."

Casey smiled bemusedly. "Uh, thanks."

"She's my stepsister," Derek argued. "And they're not coming to the party."

Casey bristled. "And why not?"

Derek glared at her. "Casey, I'm serious. You're not coming," he said firmly.

Parker winced. "Uh oh."

"You have _no_ right to tell me what to do, Derek," Casey said fiercely. "I can go to a stupid hockey party if I want to."

"What are you, five?" Derek sneered.

"No, I'm twenty. Sure as hell old enough to make my own decisions," she said pointedly. Scowling, she turned to Tim. "You know what? We will go to the party."

"Casey – " Derek growled.

"All right, bitchin'," Tim said. "It's at Rick's house, he lives right down the street from Carson Hall. You know where that is, right?"

"Yup," Casey said brightly. "We'll see you there."

"God damn it, Casey – "

"Shut up, Derek," Casey snapped. "Come on." With that, she dragged Parker away, leaving Derek standing there, fuming. She strode out of the lobby of the stadium, pushing out of the glass doors into the cool night air forcefully.

Parker jogged slightly to keep up with her. "Uh, I thought we were avoiding."

"No, now we're confronting," Casey said. "He thinks he has a right to just order me around like that. Ha!"

"Uh, you're angry," Parker said. "Maybe you should take a breather."

"No, I have to get home to change for the party," Casey spat. "Cuz it's gonna be _bitchin_'." She kicked at a stray rock angrily, sending it flying into the side of building, the loud crash echoing through the night.

Parker eyed her friend warily, anger radiating off the slim brunette. "Uh, I think I liked the avoiding better."

00

Ooh, looong chapter. Not much Derek, but it got away from me. He will be in abundance in the next part, no worries.


	4. Part Four

This turned out a little darker than I intended. Be warned, I turn slightly evil this chapter.

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Part Four

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There is a method to attending parties, a method that Derek knew very well. He liked to think of himself as a bit of an expert, considering that his very first blow-out was at age fifteen, and he'd attended at least one a month every year since.

His first rule was never to be on time. The first hour or so of most events were usually lame, the only guests there being the wannabes and the desperates – and the ones who had a phobia of being late, otherwise known as the Caseys. He was never too late either, since the last, straggling hour of every college party was always a pathetic and depressing sight, when the dawn breaks over the horizon just enough so that everyone can see the grime and sleaze that had been hidden by the dark.

No, the best thing to do was to arrive after everyone else, and be the first to leave. To stop in when the excitement and adrenaline were running high and the alcohol flowing, and leave before the music started to slow down and the girls started to pass out. Derek had always thrived on the energy of people he barely knew, dancing and laughing and flirting and kissing – it was a rush, and he'd never been one to back away from an available high. In fact, he couldn't remember attending a party that he hadn't enjoyed, excepting the one that he spent in the upstairs bathroom, throwing shampoo at a stuck-up stepsister.

The other exception, of course, was _this_ party. Funny how both instances involved Casey. Derek found little coincidence in that.

"Dude," Tim handed him a red plastic cup, overflowing with frothy, amber liquid. "Stop moping. You're bringing down the energy."

"I am not moping," Derek protested.

"Uh-huh, okay." Tim rolled his eyes. "Just as long as you don't start talking about Casey again."

"I'm not going to talk about Casey again, trust me," Derek replied stormily.

"Well, good."

Silence reigned for a short moment, before Derek broke it. "I just can't believe you _invited_ her. To a Beck party, _Jesus_. The only reason I come is because he's on the team."

"Shit, man…"

"I am not dragging her ass outta here if she gets into trouble," Derek vowed. "Which she probably will, damn it."

"You're not her dad," Tim pointed out.

"I know that," Derek said flatly.

"I mean, you're not even her brother, really. You're only step." Tim took a swig of his beer. "You did kind of grow up together, and you live together, but you don't really act like her brother."

"Oh really?" Derek asked dryly. "And how do I act?"

Tim shrugged. "Don't ask me, man. I thought I was being sensitive."

Derek rolled his eyes, turning to scan the party. "Beck's not here, is he?"

Tim shrugged. "Nah, haven't seen him since the rink. He'll show up sooner or later, he has to." Tim raised an eyebrow. "Why, you looking for something?"

"No," Derek snapped. "But he's coming? You're sure?"

"Oh, yeah, he made a fuckin' appointment," Tim said sarcastically. "Chillax, dude."

"If you wanted me to 'chillax,'" Derek said bitingly, using finger quotes, "you shouldn't have invited 'Casey.'"

Tim groaned. "You're fixated, D."

"You're an _idiot_, T."

Tim held up his hands, whistling. "Oookay, that's my cue to leave." He rolled his eyes. "Go get drunk or laid or something, seriously, you bummer." Tim sauntered off, leaving Derek in his corner, simmering.

He scoffed, setting his untouched drink down on a nearby table. Slinking off, he stuffed his hands in his pockets, surveying his surroundings. Smoke, from cigarettes and what Derek suspected was something stronger, drifted around in the air, pounding music permeating the large lower floor of the house. The bass line drummed in his ears, overlaid with the voices of the partygoers, the different cadences falling into monotony and sounding vaguely like an insipid laugh track from a sitcom.

Derek blew out a breath and stole a seat in an armchair, set slightly away from the main living room, with a full view of the door. The party noises gradually faded into the background of his mind, and he focused his attention to the stream of people coming and going through the front door. Every time a lanky redhead or a willowy brunette would walk through the door he'd perk up, only to relax when he saw that they were not the faces he was waiting for.

Several minutes went by, until the inevitable happened. A thin brunette ambled up to his side, a flirtatious smile firmly in place. "Waiting for someone?"

"Yes."

Her smile widened, and she sat down on the arm of his chair, one hand sneaking around the back to rest on his neck. "Did you have someone specific in mind, or will anyone do?"

Derek didn't even look at her. "Someone specific, actually."

The brunette smirked. "I'm sure I could change your mind," she said. "I'm Ginny."

"That's great," Derek said distractedly.

"So do you have a name, or should I just call you 'secluded broody guy?'"

Derek blinked and finally tore his gaze from the door to look at her. "Derek," he said shortly.

"Hello, Derek," she said. "You wanna tell me what's got you so down?"

"Not really," Derek replied, turning back his door-watch. "I'm sure you'd get luckier with someone else tonight," he added.

Ginny shrugged. "But where'd be the fun in that?" she asked. "I walk from the foyer to the kitchen and I get hit on eight separate times on the way. But you…" she shook a polished finger at him. "You haven't even looked at me once yet tonight."

"Maybe that's because I'm a little preoccupied," Derek said pointedly. "Which was my point, if you recall."

"So I'm not getting anywhere?" Ginny pushed. "Not even intriguing you just a little, teensy bit?" She grinned.

Derek shook his head, a corner of his mouth quirking upwards. "Not really."

"Hmm." Ginny sat back slightly, flipping her hair out of her eyes in a practiced motion. "Well, that's new."

"I'm sure your ego will survive."

She laughed. "An insult as well? Derek, you are a mystery man."

"Not as mysterious as you think," he muttered.

"Well," Ginny began, "now you have to tell me the whole story." She raised a sculpted eyebrow. "Who is she?"

Derek snorted. "Please. Let's not do the 'strangers have a heart to heart' movie scene."

Ginny chuckled. "Well, gimme something. You did get me all curious."

Derek shrugged. "I'm a pretty straight-forward guy."

"Not from where I'm sitting."

Finally snapping out of his half-trance, he raised an eyebrow and smirked. "This is sitting?" he asked, watching her balance delicately on the small arm of the chair. "You look like you'd fall over if I blew in your direction."

She raised an eyebrow. "If you think this is impressive, you should see me do the splits." She crossed one leg over the other, her skirt sliding back and exposing most of her thigh. She wobbled slightly, but tightened her grip on the chair, regaining her balance and shooting him a triumphant look.

Derek chuckled, shaking his head. "Okay, you're limber, I get it."

Ginny flashed him a smile. "I can show you limber if you want me to."

Derek just smirked, turning back to the door. "Still not interested."

She tilted her head and pouted. "Aww." He looked up at her, a flash of heat running through him, and realized with a start that she looked eerily like Casey.

"Uh, no," he said, choking slightly and his face twisting into a scowl.

"Huh." Her expression turned thoughtful. "Whoever she is, she must be…" she trailed off.

"Be what?"

She shrugged. "You know. The Different One."

Derek gave her a skeptical look. "What?"

"You know," she said, shifting backwards on the arm more and turning her face downwards towards his. "The one that stands out from all the others, for whatever reason." She smirked. "I've had a few of those, myself."

Derek grunted. "No, it's not like that." He sighed. "She's…we're not…that."

"Uh huh." She grinned. "I like you, Broody Guy."

He looked back up at her, smirking. "Of course you do," he said. "But I don't really like you back."

She smirked, unfazed by his bluntness. "That's okay. It's something different." She raised an eyebrow. "Goodbye kiss, maybe?"

Derek snorted. "Where were you when I was in high school?"

She grinned, leaning down and pressing her lips to his cheek. For a moment he leaned into her, inhaling the scent of her perfume, the faint acrid smell of her makeup, the lingering party smells of alcohol and smoke. Her hair brushed his neck and a small, phantom ache stabbed his chest, the normality and familiarity of one more faceless face pulling at him for a split second.

Then she pulled away and he caught sight of Parker out of the corner of his eye.

He jerked away from his brunette companion and turned to the door, seeing Casey's redhead friend standing in the foyer, her coat halfway off her shoulders. Her eyes fell directly upon him, and a grim expression fell upon her face. She turned to the side and Derek saw Casey walk through the door behind her, face turned to the ground.

She'd changed, he instantly noticed, into a dress that made his stomach drop with dread. It was short and red and always made him feel very, very guilty. Or sometimes tense. But mostly both.

It was only a short second before her head came up and she spotted him instantly, and he saw her freeze for a moment before her eyes caught Ginny, still draped over his chair wantonly. Her expression turned cold and she turned away, striding off in the opposite direction. Parker called out after her and shot him a glare before following. He cursed, rising from his chair.

"So that's her?" He started, having forgotten about Ginny in the short moment.

"Uh, I…gotta go," he said, ignoring the question. He marched after Casey, not sparing the other woman another look.

00

"I don't have a good feeling about this," Parker commented, eyeing her tense friend warily.

"Yeah, neither do I," Casey replied. "Did you see him? Curled around the flavor of the week right in front of the door. He probably did that on purpose." She finished filling her cup with beer from the keg and took a deep drink.

Parker sighed. "Since I've far since given up on convincing you to calm down, can you at least promise me not to get drunk?"

Casey took a deep breath. "I will not promise anything," she said neutrally.

"Come on." Parker raised an eyebrow at her disapprovingly.

"You come on!" Casey smiled humorlessly. "We're in university, baby. We drink, we party, we get trashed. It's fun, right?" She paced to the other side of the room, Parker trailing behind her. "Hardy-har _ha_."

Parker just shook her head. "Casey, I'm telling you right now, you're acting irrational. I know you're angry, but you're scaring me."

"I'm scaring myself." Casey shut her eyes tightly, leaning back against the wall. "I get so tired sometimes."

Parker said nothing, leaning back beside her, her shoulder brushing Casey's.

"Casey."

Her eyes shot open at the familiar voice. "Go away," she said flatly.

Derek crossed his arms. "Go home," he shot back.

"No."

He huffed out a frustrated breath. "Look, I'm not telling you this to be mean, okay? You really shouldn't be here."

"Why not?"

Derek threw up his arms, gesturing around wildly. "Does this look like a regular party to you?" He scowled. "No. Get outta here. Now, please."

Casey rolled her eyes. "Don't be a drama queen."

"I'm not." His voice was deadly serious. "The only reason I'm here is to make sure you're not. I don't go for parties like this, and that's saying something."

Casey huffed, opening her mouth to retort, when Parker interrupted. "I think he's right, Case." She turned to her friend, incredulous. Parker stared her down. "If you were thinking clearly, you would too." She gestured to the thronging crowd of people, dancing wildly in the backyard. "You don't think they're high on life, do you?"

Casey's face showed a hint of hesitation. "No, they're probably just drunk."

"Open your eyes, Case," Derek snapped.

Her face hardened. "Don't talk to me like that," she snapped. "I'm sick of it."

"Yeah, I'm pretty sick at the moment too," he shot back. "You've been biting my head off for the past two weeks. If you have something to say to me, then just say it."

Casey's face flushed and she pushed off the wall, straightening her spine. Parker eyed the two warily and groaned, "oh no."

"Fine, I will. I should, considering I've been biting my tongue for the past four years," she said angrily.

"Oh, don't hold back," Derek simpered.

"You're messy, inconsiderate, disrespectful and disdainful," she listed, spitting each syllable as if they were laced with poison. "You can't stand to be nice to me for more than a minute, because someone might see through your playboy, don't-give-a-crap façade." Her eyes glittered dangerously in the dim light. "But you know what, Derek Venturi? That's exactly what it is – a façade. _Fake_. You're not cool, you're not suave, you're not apathetic. In fact, you're the complete opposite, but it scares the shit out of you because you know that if anyone were to see who you really are, they could use it against you. And you can't stand the fact that I'm the one person who knows that underneath it all, you're just a little boy who's scared to death."

During her tirade, Casey had moved closer to Derek, until he was speaking directly up into his face. Silence fell heavily between them, both breathing heavily and glaring viciously at the other.

Parker looked between the two cautiously. "Uh, guys…"

"Okay, fine, I'm scared," Derek bit out. "But not as scared as you are."

"Oh, I'm scared?"

"Hell yes you are," he snapped. "If I'm scared of other people, what does that mean for you, who's terrified of her own feelings?" He smiled bitterly. "You've twisted yourself up so tight that you can't even recognize yourself. You call yourself a writer, an artist, but you only write about other people. None of your characters reflect who you are, Casey, because _you don't know_, do you?"

Casey flinched, her jaw tightening. "Shut up," she said lowly.

He ignored her. "And the worst part is that you don't want to know, do you? You're scared of your own potential, because it seems too powerful to you. You'd rather waste your life on cookie cutter boyfriends and a cookie cutter career because you're too much of a coward to really challenge yourself. And the real reason you can't stand me is because I try to do it for you." He shook his head. "I've never lied about who I am, Casey. But you do it every single day." He snapped his mouth shut after his sentence ended, slight surprise flitting across his face, as if he wasn't expecting the words to escape.

The moment seemed suspended, an extended period of time that seemed to exist on a separate plane than everyone else. Then Casey took a shuddering breath and they crashed back to earth, both their stomachs plummeting to their feet. She tore her gaze from Derek's face and dropped her cup of beer carelessly on the ground, the smelly liquid splashing over their feet. Parker jumped back, but Derek and Casey stood stock still.

With shaking hands, she pushed her hair away from her face, trying to steady her breathing. After a second, she looked up at Derek, her jaw stuck out defiantly. "Leave me alone," she said softly, and walked away.

Parker and Derek watched her leave dumbly; Parker, still stunned from the verbal explosion she'd just witnessed, and Derek still stunned and not completely sure what had just happened.

Blinking, Parker snapped out of her daze and slapped Derek on the chest. Hard. "You idiot. This is not the way to get into her pants, you know."

Derek flinched. "I am not trying to get into her pants, thank you very much," he said, scowling. "And, _ow_."

"You're such a jerk."

"I'm the jerk?" Derek raised his eyebrows. "Did you not see the way she went off on me there? And she's been in a shitty mood for weeks."

"There might be a reason behind that, moron," Parker said bluntly. "And you just made it worse."

"Everything I said was true," Derek said flatly. "And you know it."

Parker shifted uncomfortably. "No…"

"Yes," he said shortly. "You're going to be a goddamn psychologist, for Christ's sake."

"Okay, fine," she said huffing. "You were right…mostly. But Jesus, Derek, you didn't have to scream it at her in the middle of a kegger. And you could've been nicer about it, too."

He scoffed. "Well, my common sense usually tends to take a vacation when she's around."

"That makes two of you," she muttered. "God forbid if you two ever get your shit together."

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked.

"Nothing," Parker said, rolling her eyes. "Look, this is a really dangerous place for her to be upset in. You check upstairs, I'll look around down here, okay?" She frowned, not giving him a chance to answer. "Great. Bye." She turned on her heel and strode off in the direction that Casey had disappeared in.

Derek blew out a breath, his heart pounding, and turned for the stairs.

00

Casey walked without thinking, her vision blurred and her blood rushing in her ears. Derek's words pounded through her head, running over and over on a loop track that wouldn't quit.

Suddenly, she crashed into a chest, her momentum bouncing her back and propelling her backwards onto the floor. She grunted, the breath knocked out of her roughly.

"Whoa, whoa," a voice said. "Careful, sweetheart." She blinked, looking up and seeing a handsome blonde man leaning down, holding out a hand and looking concerned. "You all right?"

She swallowed, taking his hand hesitantly. "Uh, yeah," she said. He hefted her up easily, and she swayed slightly, taken aback at his strength. She cleared her throat, her voice hoarse from unshed tears. "Sorry."

He smiled charmingly. "It's fine. I'd never protest to a beautiful woman throwing herself at my feet."

She mustered a frozen smile. "Uh, yeah."

"I'm Beck," he said, taking her hand to shake. "And you are…?"

It took her a moment for her mind to catch up to what he was saying. "Uh, Casey," she supplied.

"Nice to meet you."

She smiled stiffly again, feeling antsy. She had to go, had to move…

"Here, why don't we loosen up that weight on your shoulders a little?" A drink appeared from nowhere, and he shoved it into her hand. She looked down at it dumbly. "Go on."

She took a hesitant sip, warmth sweeping through her. Feeling slightly surreal, she took a longer drink, whatever it was spreading through her with a pleasant warmth.

"Ah, there we go," he said. "So, Casey, what brings you here?"

She took another huge gulp, her eyes watering. "This and that," she said, her voice still hoarse. "You know…" she trailed off, taking another large drink.

He grinned, watching her drain the rest of the drink. "So vague," he commented.

She shrugged, feeling loose and airy. "I'm a…vague kinda woman."

"So why so tense?" Beck asked, smirking. "Lover's quarrel?"

Casey frowned, taking a few moments to try and understand the words coming from his mouth. Her tongue felt like it was made of cotton, and strange tingles were spreading from her neck down her body. "Um…" she struggled to form words. "Some – something like that."

"Uh huh." Beck's face blurred before her, and Casey felt vaguely like she was falling. "Hey, you okay?"

"Um…I don't…" she took a deep breath, the empty cup slipping from her fingers. "No," she managed to say before her vision narrowed and the world faded to black.

00


	5. Part Five

00

Part Five

00

"Casey? Casey!"

"What happened to her?"

"I dunno, man, she just, like…passed out."

"Casey, honey, wake up. Can you hear me?"

Casey's eyelids fluttered, a moan wrenching its way from her throat. Parker?

"Case? It's Parker – please open your eyes – "

"What the fuck did you give her, Beck?" Casey's attention peaked slightly. That was Derek's voice.

"Just vodka, I swear. And a little whiskey."

"Beck…" What was Derek doing there? And why did he sound so angry?

"I swear to God, man, I didn't put any of that shit in it. It was just booze."

"Oh God. Casey, oh my God. Derek, she's bleeding."

Bleeding? She wasn't bleeding. What was Parker smoking? And where was Derek? She swore she heard his voice just a second ago…

"Casey?"

She groaned. He opened her eyes with effort, managing to see blurry shapes. "P – Park – "

She heard her friend's voice break on a laugh. "I'm here. I'm here, honey – "

Casey's face twisted as a bolt of pain lanced through her head, and she cried out.

"Cas – can…hear me?"

"Wha…?" Casey shook her head, confused. Where was Derek?

"She's going under again – we need to…"

"…don't…"

"Back up, give – space…"

Her jumbled mind couldn't keep up to the disembodied voices, coming in and out like radio static. It was like coming into the middle of a strange television show, or taking a test for a class she'd never attended. Dark, inky blackness lurked at the edges of her diminished vision, and exhausted, Casey succumbed once again.

00

The next time she awoke, she was moving.

Something solid and warm was beneath her cheek, and she felt pressure on the back of her head. She moaned slightly, dull, throbbing pain making itself known.

"Casey?"

She recognized the voice again. "Derek…"

"She's awake?" Parker's voice, from her left.

She tried to lift her head, but the pressure increased slightly. "Stop…stop pressing on my head," she mumbled.

"No one's touching your head, sweetie," Parker said concernedly. "Derek – "

"What happened?" she asked, confused. The last thing she remembered had been meeting that guy…fighting with Derek…

"You hit your head," Derek said, his voice rumbling through her, and she realized that her head was resting on his chest. "We're taking you to the hospital now."

Sleep pulled at Casey once again, and her breathing hitched. Her mind floating and incoherent, she grasped onto the one train of thought she could find. "Who'sa new girl?" she slurred.

"What?"

"New girl," she said. "Who's she?"

"What new girl?" Derek asked, confused, but she was asleep again before she could answer.

00

Her first real, conscious thought was that she really, really had to pee.

Her second was that that beeping sound was really freaking annoying. "Ugh," she moaned out loud.

Her eyes fluttered open, and she cleared her dry throat. Her mouth felt like it was lined with sandpaper, and her head was pounding.

"Ah, I see you've finally joined the land of the living."

Casey brought her head up quickly at the voice, then regretted it instantly as the pain in her head intensified. "Ow," she managed to utter.

"Easy, easy." Hands eased her head back onto the pillow. "Careful, you don't want to tear the stitches."

"Stitches?" Casey asked, confused and wary. "What happened? Where am I?"

"Toronto General," the voice answered. "I'm the nurse on duty, you can call me Carrie."

Casey instantly became alarmed. "Hospital? What happened?"

"Well, according to your stepbrother, you fell and hit your head," the voice – Carrie – replied. "The hit alone caused a concussion, but he also says that you drank a glass of alcohol immediately after, which aggravated your symptoms even more. You passed out very quickly."

Casey frowned. "I hit my…I don't remember that," she said.

"You probably didn't feel it hurting," Carrie replied. "Right away, anyway. Head injuries are like that."

"I fell," Casey murmured, closing her eyes against the image of the ceiling. "I remember that, I bumped into someone."

Casey felt Carrie fussing with her blankets, pulling them higher up around her shoulders. She then heard rustling and clanking sounds. "You're very lucky," the nurse said. "If your stepbrother and your friend hadn't brought you here as quickly as they did, the complications would've been much worse than they are."

"Comp…" Casey shut her eyes tighter. "Am I going to be okay?"

"You'll be fine," the nurse replied reassuringly. "A few stitches, a few days in bed, and you'll be as right as rain." Carrie pressed something into her hand. "This is the buzzer – if you need anything, just press it. I have to go notify the doctor that you're awake, and he should be in to examine you soon."

"Um, okay," Casey said, her eyes still shut against the pain. "Wait – my stepbrother brought me? Where is he?"

"To your right, hon," Carrie replied. "Get some rest."

Casey barely noticed her leaving, her body stiff and rigid. _Derek's here_, she thought. _Derek'shereDerek'sDerek'shere_… She turned her head back to the ceiling, not wanting to look at him quite yet, afraid of what he'd say. Of what she'd say.

It took her several minutes of just laying there, breathing deeply, before she could gather enough courage to turn her head on the pillow. She peeked her eyes open, blinking against the light, and saw him. Her anxiety instantly vanished.

He was asleep on the large window seat, his head propped up on his arm and his legs stretched out, knees bent and cramped in the small space. His chest rose and fell evenly in a steady pattern that was so familiar it was soothing. He was wearing the same clothes he'd worn to the party, now disheveled, and his hair was messy and dirty. Casey couldn't help but be comforted at the sight.

"Derek," she called, trying to wake him up. Nothing. "De – _rek_," she called, louder. Her only response was some sort of noise halfway between a snort and a snore. She huffed. "My head hurts too much for this," she muttered. Turning slightly to look at the nightstand, she grabbed a box of tissues and threw it at his head.

He shot up to a sitting position, startled, and promptly hit his head on the window curtain. "Ow! Shit, Casey!"

She snorted. "Good morning, sunshine."

"Shouldn't I be saying that?" he grumbled, rubbing at his head. He turned around and let his feet fall to the floor, gracing her with a scowl. "Well, look who finally decided to wake up."

Casey managed a small smile. "How long have I been out?"

Derek yawned, stretching his arms above his head. "A day or so. It's uh…" he checked his watch. "Damn, four pm."

"Four?" Casey felt a jolt of recognition and the stabbing panic that always comes with realizing something you missed. "Oh no, Derek, I had a midterm today!"

"So?" Derek shrugged, giving her a weird look. "You can make it up."

"Not with this teacher," Casey moaned. "Great. Just great."

"Case, you're in the hospital," Derek said, looking at her like he always did when he thought she was being uptight or weird or crazy. She hated that look. "I'm sure your professor will let you make up a test."

Casey shook her head, frowning. "Oh yeah, I'm sure she'll be oh so happy to give me special treatment after hearing that I spent the entire day recovering from a drunk concussion."

Looking mildly amused at her description, he shrugged. "Well, you don't have to include the drunk part."

She shook her head. "I can't believe how stupid this is."

"_This_ was stupid? Try _you _were stupid," Derek said pointedly. "And on that point, what the hell were you thinking, exactly?"

"Oh, is this the part where you lecture me on things I already know?" she snapped. "Could we at least postpone it until I get a morphine drip? That way I'll only have to hear every fourth word or so."

"Yeah, see, when you run off into the middle of a raging kegger and promptly get yourself injured, drunk _and_ leered on, I think I have the right to lecture a little."

"Leered on?" Casey asked confusedly, her mood changing. "What…"

"Beck," Derek reminded her impatiently. Casey was silent, frowning. "You don't remember?"

"Remember what?"

Derek exhaled a long breath of air, looking away from her. "You bumped into him, he hit on you, gave you a drink?"

"Um, okay," Casey said slowly, drawing a blank. "He didn't…do anything, did he?"

Derek jumped up from the window seat and started pacing, agitated. "No, he didn't. But he could have." He gestured with his arms angrily. "He's bad news, okay? He throws parties like that just so he can…experiment with girls."

Bile rose in her throat, and she swallowed thickly, leaning her head back against the pillow. "Can we not talk about this now?" she pleaded.

"No, we can't," he snapped. "I mean it's one thing to not know the difference between a drunk guy and a drugged up one, but come on, taking a drink from a stranger? In an _open freaking container_? Are you mentally challenged or just suicidal?"

"I wasn't exactly thinking straight, Derek!" she exclaimed in frustration.

"Oh, and who's fault was that?"

"Yours!" she said incredulously. "It's always your fault, Derek! You think that anyone else in the world can infuriate me to the point of tunnel vision? Think _again_."

"I'm flattered," Derek drawled.

"Don't be," she snapped. "It's not a good thing."

He narrowed his eyes at her, stopping his pacing to stand a few feet away from her, by the foot of the bed. "Are you sure about that?"

Her mouth snapped shut. "I – " she shut her eyes tightly, her head spinning, making her dizzy. Sighing, she said, "I don't know, okay? I'm just – can you go get the doctor please? I really don't feel well."

Even with her eyes shut, she could still picture him just as well as if she were seeing him before her. After a prolonged silence, she heard him sigh. "Fine." There was another pause, and then a stern, "don't you ever pull anything like this ever again."

She bit her lip. "I won't," she promised. She kept her eyes closed, listening to him walk out of the room.

00

"Are you _sure_ you're all right?" Parker asked, leaning over the bed, her brow furrowed in concern. "Cuz I'm sure you can stay another day if you need to."

"Yes," Casey replied, slightly exasperated. "Clean bill of health, I swear. You can ask the doctor if you want, but I suspect you've already done that."

Parker quirked a smile at her. "Sorry. It's just – it's been a really long weekend."

"Tell me about it," Casey muttered.

"You have no idea how scary it was, coming upstairs to see you lying there on the floor – " Parker broke off, shuddering. "I don't ever want to see you looking like that ever again. You were so pale."

Casey felt a stab of affection, and stood up off the bed to pull the redhead into a hug. "Oh, Parker, you know I love you, right?"

Parker hugged back fiercely. "Totally. I love you too." She sniffed. "Even when you're a quivering pile of anxiety."

Casey giggled shakily. "Thank God."

They pulled away laughing. "Okay, let's get you outta here before your ass molds to the bed," Parker joked, pulling Casey away by her arm. "You're all checked out and Derek's waiting down in the car."

Casey huffed at the name, but moved into the waiting wheelchair by the bed. "I don't know why I have to ride in this thing," she griped. "I can walk."

"Hospital policy," Parker said breezily. "I had a hard enough time convincing Nurse Carrie to let me push you down myself. Besides, I'm feeling a very huge mothering complex right about now, so humor me, Concussed Girl."

Casey rolled her eyes, but leaned back into the seat, only gripping the armrest slightly when Parker started to move her. "So what happened exactly, when you found me?" she asked when they'd exited the hospital room.

"Derek didn't tell you?"

Casey shrugged, turning her face down to the floor. "A little. Not really."

"Well – " Parker sighed. "Derek found you, actually. We split up to look for you after – uh, your…fight. And he went upstairs first." Parker broke off to maneuver the chair into an elevator, pressing the lobby button with her knee.

Casey was silent a moment, playing with a stray string, unraveled from her sleeve. "How – what happened then?"

Parker leaned back against the wall of the elevator, shrugging. "Well, he got rid of that Beck asshole pretty quickly. Someone called 911, but that was a bad idea since everyone started freaking out about the cops." Parker snorted in disgust. "It was a madhouse. Everyone was running around, trying to get out the fastest. So Derek just picked you up and got you out of there. Made me drive to the ER while he tried to wake you up."

She felt a strange feeling in the pit of her stomach, and shifted uneasily in the old chair. "Oh."

"Did…you guys…make up?" Parker asked slowly. "With the…fight, and everything?"

"Uh, no," Casey said shortly. "I haven't spoken to him since I first woke up last night. We had a fight," she faltered, "or something. It was weird."

"Weird how?"

"I don't know." She sighed. "I was loopy; I don't remember all of it. I still am loopy."

Parker raised an eyebrow, obviously seeing through the lie. "Well, you should talk to him. You guys really hashed things out."

"Uh huh," Casey said lamely. The elevator doors dinged open, and the two women were silent while Parker pushed her out into the lobby and through the automatic doors.

Derek was waiting by his car, leaning casually against the hood. Casey's stomach dropped at the sight of him, looking as cool and collected as ever. He raised an eyebrow at the wheelchair and she tensed, bracing herself for a snark, but none came, thankfully. He turned his head away and dug his keys from his pocket, asking, "ready?"

Casey frowned, a little unsure of herself for some reason. "Yeah." She stood up from the chair, pushing it away from her with her foot disgustedly. "Beyond ready to get out of here, thank you."

"Aww, and here I thought you loved plastic food and pushy medical professionals," Parker teased.

"Sorry," Casey said. "But as soon as I figured out that the real thing is nothing like _General Hospital_, I quickly lost interest."

"Ha ha," Parker mocked. "Get in the car."

"Yes, please," Derek chimed in. "Before you 'trip' and take another strange drink from someone you don't know."

Casey shot him a glare, wrenching the car door open. "Do me a favor and shut up." Derek merely rolled his eyes, striding around to the driver's side.

Parker blew out a breath. "And, we're back with our regularly scheduled programming."

00

"Are you sure you didn't say anything?" Casey pressed.

"Yes, I'm sure," Derek replied tersely. "Am I not Lord of the Lies?"

She snorted. "Oh right, I forgot how ridiculously proud you are of your capability for deceit."

"'Capability for deceit?'" Derek repeated. "Who talks like that? Seriously?"

Casey ignored him. "I just don't want her to worry, that's all. I mean, she nearly had a nervous breakdown when Lizzie broke her leg last summer; I don't even want to imagine what she'd do if she found out about this. Probably drive down and insist on staying with us to 'nurse me back to health.'"

Derek cringed. "Hello? Already imagined that, which is why when you asked me not to tell Nora, I _didn't tell Nora_. Or my dad or Lizzie or anyone from home. Okay?" he finished brusquely.

"Okay, okay," Casey said, holding up her hands. "I'm just a little…stressed, okay?"

"Is there ever a time when you're not?" He snorted. "You're wound tighter than a clock, Case, get real."

"_You've twisted yourself up so tight that you can't even recognize yourself."_ His words from the night before suddenly echoed in her head, and she turned away, leaning her forehead against the car window. Having dropped Parker off at her apartment earlier, Casey suddenly felt her friend's absence very strongly.

She felt off balance, as if someone had come along and destroyed whatever shaky platform she'd been resting on. _Surprise, surprise, that that someone was Derek_, she thought resentfully. In one swift stroke, he'd taken every wall, every defense, every denial, excuse, rationalization and torn them all the shreds, without blinking an eye.

Her past day and a half in the hospital had been spent alternately freaking out and analyzing, replaying that conversation…confrontation – whatever – in her head a million times until she wasn't even exactly sure that she remembered what had happened correctly. _And of course, Derek seems completely unfazed_. Sneaking a glance at his profile, she was momentarily struck dumb by the play of light on his face, highlighting the five o'clock shadow on his chin. She shivered and looked away.

"You okay?"

She startled. "What?"

"Are you okay?" Derek asked slowly. "You seemed…zoned out."

"Um, yeah, I'm fine," she said, not sure how to take the obvious concern in his voice. "Uh, Derek?"

"Yeah?"

She opened her mouth to speak, not exactly sure what she was going to say, when she caught sight of his hand on the steering wheel. "What happened to your hand?"

He flinched and immediately switched to steering with his left hand, moving his more visible right one beneath the folds of his coat. "Nothing," he said quickly.

"Uh huh. What happened?"

"Nothing," he said, a bit edgily.

Casey was silent a moment, studying his carefully blanked out face. "You beat up that Beck guy, didn't you?"

"I…might have."

Casey huffed in disgust. "Ugh. You idiot."

"Oh, what?" Derek instantly went on the defensive. "You're _angry_ that I punched Creepy Predator Man?"

"He's not a predator," Casey argued. "He gave me a drink, that's it. I'm the one who tripped, and I'm the one who chugged it down. He didn't drug me, or hit me, or push me, or force me to concuss myself in any way."

"No, he just watched you take a nasty fall right in front of his face, and then proceeded to shove a drink so strong it could peel wallpaper into your hand," Derek countered. "Besides, I didn't…_beat him up_," he continued. "I just – slapped him around a little."

Casey remained unimpressed. "You're such a Neanderthal," she snapped. "What about hockey? What if you'd broken a bone in your hand, or something? There goes your scholarship." She shook her head. "And for what? Some moronic, male…territory fight?"

"_Territory_?" Derek repeated incredulously. "I think you've made it abundantly clear by now that you are no one's _territory_. Stop blowing it out of proportion." He turned to look her in the eye. "Beck's an ass, okay? I can guarantee you that if you hadn't started _bleeding_ from the _skull_, he wouldn't have hesitated to make you his latest conquest." He turned back to the road, his hand tightening on the wheel. "He treats women like dirt. Trust me, punching his lights out was a privilege I've waited a long time for."

Casey looked away, slightly unnerved despite herself. "Whatever. I can take care of myself."

He scoffed at this angrily. "Well, obviously not, Casey, since you went to _one_ party and ended up in the goddamn _hospital_!"

"Would you _stop_ yelling at me?" Casey shouted. "I realize how stupid this whole thing is, thank you, and would really like to just go home and forget the whole thing, okay?"

"Whatever," he said darkly. "But from no on, no more hockey parties, or I will tell Nora," he threatened.

"You're gonna tattle on me?" she asked skeptically.

"Damn right I will." He shook his head, taking a deep breath. "When I say I don't want you at a party, it isn't because I don't want you to ruin my good time, okay? It's because you shouldn't be there, period." He clenched his jaw. "This shouldn't have happened."

For some reason this statement, said in uncharacteristic seriousness, nearly drove Casey to tears. Not that she wasn't close to them anyway. "Okay. I get it. I'm sorry."

"Thank you," he said softly. After a moment, he took another deep breath and voiced a question Casey figured he'd been working up to ever since she woke up. "Why were you so angry with me, anyway?"

She was silent for a very long time, before muttering, "it doesn't matter."

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him shoot her a skeptical look that she ignored. Closing her eyes, she tried to turn her brain off for the remainder of the ride, trying not to pay attention to the feel of his gaze, and not at all surprised when it didn't work.

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A little explanation for my slight delay -

This was originally longer, but the scene that comes after this was, uh, really long. And tough to write. So I split the monster chapter into one slightly longish chapter and one slightly shortish one.

Anyway, hope you enjoyed.


	6. Part Six

Lizzie and Edwin are ten, currently? Right? Well they're fourteen here, so…yeah.

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Part Six

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"Phone."

Casey looked up from her textbook, seeing Derek standing over her, holding the cordless. "Who is it?" she asked, unfolding her legs from beneath her and reaching for the telephone.

"Lizzie," he said shortly, handing it to her and flopping down on the couch beside her.

"Oh." She eyed him for a second and then brought it to her ear. "Liz?"

"Hey Casey! Long time no see. Or…talk," came her little sister's voice. "How are you?"

Casey smiled slightly, shooting another look at Derek out of the corner of her eye, watching him flip the TV channels with the remote aggressively. "Fine," she said, faux-lightly. "You know, it's all mostly the same for me. Classes, classes and more classes," she joked.

"Oh, well, you graduate soon, right? Shouldn't it start winding down or something?"

Casey snorted a little. "You'd think so." She sighed. "So, what about you? How's soccer going?"

"Oh, it's really good," Lizzie replied excitedly. "I got moved to the starting position. Coach Jacobs thinks I even have a shot at the varsity team next year."

"Really? Wow, that's great," Casey replied. She shot another look at Derek, catching him looking at her, and was caught in a short staring contest. He broke the gaze first, focusing back on the television. Casey continued to study his profile, biting her lip, trying to figure him out for what seemed like the millionth time.

"…so I really wasn't sure which one to use, but Jake said that my high kick was more effective." Casey tuned back into her sister, catching the tail end of her sentence.

"Hmm. Who's Jake?" she asked.

"Oh. Uh…" Lizzie faltered, and Casey sat up a little straighter, her sister instincts peaked. "He's kind of my, uh, boyfriend."

"Boyfriend?" Casey repeated. "Oh my God, Liz! Your first boyfriend?"

"Yeah," Lizzie muttered, embarrassed. "Well, kinda. I think."

"What do you mean, 'you think?'"

"Well…" Casey smiled, recognizing the hesitant, unsure tone in her voice. "I mean, he kissed me. Once, after a game. And he eats lunch with me every day, and he, um, you know, puts his arm around me a lot."

Casey smiled fondly. "Sounds like a boyfriend to me."

"Well, I dunno. He hasn't said anything."

Casey caught sight of Derek smirking at her, obviously interpreting what he wanted to from her side of the conversation. She shot him a playful smirk. "Well, sometimes boys can be real _cowards_," she said pointedly, biting her lip when he kicked her shin playfully. "You kinda need to help them out sometimes. Well, a lot."

"You mean I should talk to him about it?" Lizzie sounded less than enthused. "Can't I just go with it?"

Casey chuckled. "And spend the rest of your relationship wondering about what exactly it is he feels for you?" She felt a stab in her abdomen, and she shifted slightly on the couch, leaning away from Derek. "Talk to him, trust me."

Lizzie sighed on the other end. "You're right. You're always right, Case."

She chuckled weakly. "Yeah. Always."

"So…you're coming home for your birthday, right?" Lizzie asked nervously.

"My birthday?" Casey was momentarily stunned, realizing that she had forgotten all about it. "Uh, yeah, yeah, I'm coming home for it. Next week, the big two – one," she joked nervously. Derek did a slight double take, turning towards her and shaking his head vigorously. 'What?' she mouthed.

"Is Derek driving you?"

Casey narrowed her eyes at him. "Of course Derek would be happy to drive me home, considering I don't have a car." Derek groaned and collapsed back into the cushions. "Why? You're not planning me a surprise party, are you?"

"No," Lizzie said unconvincingly. "Please, how lame would that be? No, no. Just us family, that's it!"

Casey rolled her eyes. Her sister was about as good of a liar as she was. "Uh huh. Just please, please don't invite Sam, okay? Please?"

"Casey, there's no party," Lizzie said loudly. "And even if there was, it'd kinda be too late not to invite Sam since Mom's on the PTA with his mom and so he sorta already is coming – if there _were_ a party, that is." Lizzie giggled anxiously.

Casey moaned. "Great. Just great." Derek was pushing at her leg with his foot, trying to get her attention, and she slapped him, pulling away. "Just do me a favor and don't jump out and yell 'surprise?' I've been getting an abundance of headaches lately," she said dryly. Derek snorted.

"Fine. I will try – key word, try – for that, slim, _slim_ possibility."

"Lizzie," Casey whined.

"What? You'd never think so, but George is very into surprise parties, for some strange reason."

"Okay." She blew out a breath. "I'll call you before I leave, okay?"

"Okay. Sorry."

"It's okay." Casey said her goodbyes, then let out a frustrated grunt and tossed the phone across the room. "God."

"I cannot believe you committed me to a visit home. In the middle of hockey season, too." Derek threw his hands in the air, shooting her a glare.

"It's my birthday on Saturday, idiot. Not that I expected you to remember," she said bitingly. He cringed, tensing. "And they're throwing me a surprise party. And don't even think that I'm gonna Greyhound it. You're driving me," she said succinctly.

"If it's a surprise, then how do you know about it?" he snarked.

"Because Lizzie is a bad liar," she commented.

"Oh, so it does run in the family."

"I don't know," Casey said idly. "I thought my mom was pretty convincing when she told you she loved your final film project last year."

Derek stiffened. "Hey, everyone loves that movie. That's the best thing I've ever made."

"The documentary on cheerleading?" she asked skeptically, a smirk pulling at the edges of her mouth.

"It wasn't just about cheerleading," he defended. "It was about women's sports in general. Cheerleading just happened to take a priority."

"Uh huh."

"Hey, I found out that the coach was skimming funds out of the department," he said. "I got him fired and everything."

"Oh yeah. It was a real hard-hitting exposé," she snarked. "I thought that the locker room scenes were particularly hardcore."

He smirked. "You remember those, huh? How many times did you watch it, Case?"

She scowled and threw a pillow at him. "Enough to lose a few IQ points."

"Sure, sure."

Casey turned back to her textbook, pointedly turning away from his grin. He continued to study her, trying to break through her bravado, but she merely focused harder on her book, studying the words as if her vision were failing.

After a few moments, he spoke up again. "So I'm a coward, huh?" he asked, semi-casually.

She froze for a second before maintaining her composure. "No more than I am, apparently."

"Hmm."

The silence came back, and Casey shifted uncomfortably. "So are we finally gonna talk about it, or what?" she asked finally, giving up on the book and slamming it shut.

"Talk about what?"

"Please don't play dumb, Derek," she said tiredly.

"Fine." He shrugged, turning his gaze to the television, a random infomercial praising the merits of a magical cleaning solution guaranteed to take care of any mess. "We had a fight. It happens occasionally," he said dryly.

"It wasn't a regular fight," Casey pointed out.

Derek huffed, agitated. "Why do we have to hash this out?" he asked. "We were angry, we yelled at each other, that's it. Now, I know you have the inexplicable urge to take every single thing that happens to you and examine it until its pathetic, dried up death, but I for one would like to put it behind us."

Casey huffed, throwing her textbook on a nearby chair. "That's so typical of you, Derek. Ignore it and it'll go away, right? The real world doesn't work like that, FYI."

"Who says I have to live in the real world?" Derek quipped.

"Derek."

"What?" he snapped, frustrated.

"Oh my God!" She threw her hands in the air in annoyance. "You really are dense, aren't you? I've been going crazy this past week, obsessing over everything we said, and you haven't even noticed!"

"You're always crazy, how am I supposed to tell the difference from 'regular crazy' and 'special crazy?'"

Casey glared at him. "You know what? Forget it."

She stood up angrily and immediately swayed on her feet, her knees giving out. Derek shot up and steadied her, grabbing her around the waist. She instinctively reached out and gripped his forearms, steadying herself and regaining her balance slightly. Her head still spun wildly though, and she moaned, her head falling to rest on his chest. "Casey?"

"Oh, bad idea, bad idea," she murmured, willing the ground to stop moving.

"C'mon, sit down." He lowered her back down on the couch gently, and she relaxed into the cushions, closing her eyes and swallowing the lump in her throat. "You stood up too fast," he murmured.

"I know." Another wave of dizziness washed over her, and she fisted her hands in Derek's shirt. "Oh man," she groaned.

"Relax," he said smoothly. "Just take deep breaths. That's it."

She followed his instructions, the low tones of his voice calming her nerves, and soon enough her head cleared and the throbbing pain in her forehead receded slightly. She swallowed again, peeking her eyes open. "Okay, ow."

"You okay?"

"Yeah." She sighed. "When is that gonna stop?"

"When you start taking care of yourself," he said pointedly.

She rolled her eyes. "Thanks, _Dad_."

"Please. When was the last time you ate?" he asked.

She squirmed, feeling suddenly trapped in his grip. "I dunno. This morning?"

"Oh, you mean that invisible breakfast you had?" he retorted. "Yeah, that must've filled you up."

She bristled, her anger returning in full force. "Why do you have to be rude about everything?" she asked.

"Why do you have to be stubborn about everything?" he shot back.

She glared at him, chest heaving, and he scowled right back. There was a prolonged silence in which Casey fully realized the fact that he was practically laying on top of her, one leg tangled with hers, his hands on her waist, and her hands still fisted in his shirt.

She considered pushing him off, and for a split second even tensed, readying to make the move. But then his grip tightened and his face darkened, as if anticipating what she was thinking of doing. She froze, her breath caught. _He has complete control over me_, she realized, panic washing over her. "Derek, I can't – it's too much…" she stuttered, trying to find words.

"Too much what?" he demanded, low and intense. "Too much to handle? Is this getting too _real_ for you, Case?"

She twitched, her breaths coming in short and scared. "You don't know anything about me," she said weakly, hating how her voice broke. "You don't."

"You're wrong," he said simply. He kept her pinned with his gaze, and Casey found herself unable to look away. Her whole body was trembling, tingles racing over every inch of her skin. She felt completely and utterly exposed when he looked at her like that, as if he knew every single thing about her. As if there wasn't a single aspect of herself that he wasn't intimately familiar with, not a habit nor a tic nor an opinion that he didn't know.

And she realized, with a sickening thud, that he _did_ know her better than anyone else in her entire life. Better than her mother, who had always been just a little too busy and a little too harried with three young children, a husband and a full time job to be terribly concerned with the scraps of Casey's personality. Better than her father, who she hadn't seen since her high school graduation, or Lizzie, who was too young for Casey to burden her problems with, or Parker, who was a little too blunt for Casey to feel comfortable sharing everything. There was a barrier between her and everyone she'd ever loved, a barrier that she'd spent ten years painstakingly creating. She had thought that she was alone behind it, but apparently not.

Tears pricked at her eyes, but she blinked them back, so infinitely tired of crying. She'd shed enough tears in her short life to fill an ocean. The heat from Derek's hands seared through her shirt to her skin, and it seemed as if he was warming her entire body. As if she'd been walking around in an icy daze her whole life and this was the first contact she'd had with a regular, warm, real human being.

And didn't it make sense, in a twisted way? He'd seen her in every single possible state. He'd crashed into her life and set up shop in the middle of all her organization and meticulous planning, not giving a crap when he threw her entire existence off balance. He knew what she looked like when she cried, when she was insecure, when she obsessed, when she got too full of herself, when she was so angry that she couldn't see straight. He knew how to make her laugh, cry and yell all in the same moment, and he could change the tone of her entire day with a snap of his fingers. And he was the only one, in her entire life, who took one disdainful look at her surface and called 'bullshit.'

Slowly, he moved his hands from her waist to her back, all the while keeping his gaze fixated on hers. She knew without saying that one word from her and he'd stop, and there was a voice in her head screaming at her to say it, but she couldn't bring herself to speak, to break this moment. She felt him lift up the hem of her shirt slightly, and suddenly felt his palms on the bare skin of her back. Her entire body exploded in heat, searing and white and all-consuming. She let out an involuntary noise, something like a groan or a whimper, and bit her lip hard enough to draw blood.

"Casey," he said, his voice unbelievably rough. Her legs tightened involuntarily, squeezing his thigh between her knees. "I don't – "

"I know," she said through her dry throat. "I don't know either."

He took in a deep breath, moving his hands up her back, underneath her shirt, skimming up her spine and over her bra strap to rest on her shoulder blades. His entire torso was aligned with hers, her chest pressed against his. Her hands moved up to his shoulders, hands resting beneath his collar. She couldn't breathe, she couldn't think, because there was nothing but the moment, but his hands and his skin and all she could do was _feel_…

Of course, that was also the moment that the phone rang.

The shrill noise penetrated the quiet sharply, making both of them jump, startled. Derek tore his hands away from her, moving back on the couch. Casey sat up straight, bringing her knees to her chest in a defensive posture. They stared at each other for another long moment, until the phone rang once more, spurring Casey into action. She stood up, striding over to where the phone had been thrown, on the floor by the television. She reached down to grab it and stalled when she caught sight of her violently shaking hands. She set her jaw and grabbed the phone, taking a deep breath and pressing 'talk.'

"Hello?"

"Casey?"

Her heart thudded against her ribcage, in unrealistic panic. "M – Mom," she stuttered.

"Sweetie? Are you okay?"

Her blood rushing in her ears, she whirled around to look at Derek, who was staring right back at her. He raised an eyebrow at the phone, as if to say, 'well?'

She pursed her lips. "I'm here. I'm fine." She plastered a note of cheeriness into her voice. "What's up?"

"I was just double checking if Lizzie had talked to you about coming home this weekend. Derek's still coming with you?"

"Yeah," she said blankly, eyes still locked with Derek's. "I'm coming." Derek smirked, and she instantly flushed. "I – I mean, we'll be there. This weekend, my birthday."

"Twenty-one," her mother said fondly. "It seems like just yesterday that you were a little girl, pulling on my pant leg."

"Uh huh," she said blandly. "Time flies."

"Is this a bad time? You sound distracted."

"Um…" she broke eye contact, reality rushing up to meet her. "Yeah, it kinda is. I'm cramming for a test, and…"

"I understand. Call me back later, and we'll chat a little, okay?"

"All right."

"I love you, sweetie."

Casey held back a sob. "I love you too."

She hung up, her hand falling to her side listlessly. Finally she shook her head decisively and moved to go upstairs.

Derek grabbed her wrist, stopping her motion. "Casey – "

"Stop," she said quietly. "Just let me go. Please."

He looked at her for a moment, before something flitted over his face and he let go, nodding.

She stood there, wavering in-between two options. She was wearing at her lip, and her hair was in disarray, falling out of its clip, chunks and strands escaping to splay across her neck and shoulders, like blank ink on pale, white paper. Her eyes darted from him, to the floor, to the phone still in her hand, and she let out a breath. She shot him a look, full of apology, or maybe longing, and finally turned on her heel and fled to her room.

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Jeez, I feel like I just ran a marathon. These two are tiring, aren't they?


	7. Part Seven

I'm gonna say that they all live in London, Ontario, just to give it a name, and a time frame. If that's wrong, and you know where they really live, correct me.

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Part Seven

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"Are you okay?"

Casey looked away from the movie, brow furrowed. "Huh?"

Parker looked at her piercingly. "You've been…unusually quiet. You're not getting any more of those dizzy spells, are you?"

Casey shook her head. "The last one was two days ago." She looked away, her abdomen tightening.

Parker raised an eyebrow. "Are you ever gonna tell me what's bothering you?"

"I plan not to."

Parker harrumphed. "Fine. Be that way."

Casey laughed. "You're just put out that nothing 'juicy,'" she raised her hands and made air quotes, "has happened with Derek."

"Well, I'm not so sure about that," her friend said, eyeing Casey suspiciously. "Are you sure nothing happened? Nothing at all?"

Casey turned back to the television, her face carefully blank. "Nope. We talked a little, about the fight at the party, but…" she shrugged. "The past week has been painfully boring, I'm afraid."

"Uh huh." Parker looked skeptical. "Well where is he now?"

"Out filming somewhere," she replied easily. "He wanted to get some work done before we left for the weekend."

"Right. For the 'surprise that isn't really a surprise' party?"

Casey groaned. "My mom called you, didn't she?"

Parker shot her an apologetic look. "I'm driving down tonight to help her decorate."

"Great," Casey groused. "She's infiltrating everyone. She already invited Sam – "

"On and Off Again Sam?"

"Yes. Who I am still tremendously awkward around, thank you very much," Casey complained. "And everyone else she could think of. I can't _wait_," she grumbled.

"Maybe it won't be so bad. Aren't you usually into this sorta thing? Celebrating with friends and family?"

Casey shot her a look. "Do I look like I'm in a celebrating kind of mood?"

Parker patted her arm. "I'll make sure there's alcohol there."

"You're a good friend."

They watched in silence for a while before Casey heard the front door open, loud, male footsteps clomping around in the foyer. She sunk down into the couch, inwardly groaning.

"Chick flicks? _Lame_!"

"Hey, Tim," Casey and Parker chorused together.

"Heyyyy, birthday girl!" With a huge, dopey grin, the beefy hockey player pulled her up off the couch by her arms, wrapping her in a bone crushing hug.

"Ugh. Oxygen, Tim," she croaked.

He let her go abruptly, sending her stumbling back. "Sorry." He grinned. "You're twenty-one! You're officially legal _everywhere_ in North America!"

"Oh, great," Casey snarked. "Now all those beer runs to the US will finally be legit."

"You've been on beer runs without me?" Casey's head snapped to the doorway, seeing Derek sauntering into the room. "I'm hurt, Case."

She mumbled a response, looking over at Tim, changing the subject. "So, Tim, you're coming to the party, right?" Parker quirked an eyebrow at her, giving her an 'I see right through you,' look.

"Hells yeah. Your stepdad called me this morning." He looked at Casey. "Uh, you know it's supposed to be a surprise, right?"

Casey rolled her eyes in response.

"Casey has an issue with surprises," Derek piped in. "She doesn't like to not have control."

"Ha ha," Casey snarked, then stopped short. "Wait a minute…you're a genius!"

"I knew you'd admit it someday."

"No – that's what I need to do, take back control!" Casey beamed. "I'll show up early!"

"What?" Parker looked skeptical. "How will that put you back in control?"

Derek smirked, catching onto her plan. "If she shows up early, then she'll ruin the surprise. No one will be ready for her."

"Exactly." Casey grinned. "Then maybe I can catch my mom and tell her I want to spend my birthday with my close friends and family only."

"No party?" Tim looked crestfallen.

"Of course they'll be a party. Nora would never call it off," Parker reassured him, rolling her eyes. "Do you know how much food she's making me bring?"

Casey's smile faltered only a little. "Well, she'll know for next year, then."

"Awesome. Well, c'mon Parks. You've got the cash, I've got the ride." He jangled a pair of keys at her.

"Uh, Parks?" Casey repeated incredulously. "You're going somewhere with Tim?"

Parker bit her lip. "Um, yeah. Picking up food for your party."

"I am the party favor master," Tim declared. "I even cater by special request."

He winked, and Casey snorted. "Right." She grabbed Parker's arm and dragged her off to the side, speaking to her in a stern whisper. "Please tell me you're not doing what I think you're doing."

"I'm not doing what you think I'm doing?"

"Parker!"

"What? He's sweet, in a frat boy kinda way. Plus he's got a car. Always a plus when you're transporting a trunkful of food."

"Sweet? Tim? Maybe in an alternate universe where groping and beer funnels are sweet. And then only maybe."

Parker shrugged. "What can I say? I like the pretty, dumb ones."

Casey huffed. "You're not allowed to borrow my shoes anymore."

"What?" Parker looked stricken. "Not even the strappy blue ones?"

"Nope. This is far too serious a transgression." Casey turned on her heel back to the boys, leaving Parker pouting in the corner. "Well, good luck with the, uh, party catering, Tim, but you should go now, before the stores close."

"But it's noon – "

Casey cut him off, pushing him towards the door. "And if I'm gonna show up early then Derek and I have to leave like, now. So bye!" she chirped, pushing Parker by the elbow as well.

The pair gave her weird looks. Tim shot a look at Derek, who shrugged, looking unfazed. Parker merely huffed and walked out the door.

"Uh, fine?" Tim said uncertainly. "See ya later, Casey."

"Bye!" Casey waved, waiting until Tim followed Parker out the door to drop her smile.

"I'm almost afraid to ask what that was about."

Casey glared at him. "Did you know about this?"

Derek looked at her blankly. "Know about what?"

"About Tim and Parker!"

"About them…going to the grocery store?"

Casey huffed. "You know that's not all they're doing."

"Oh, you're right. They might stop for gas, too. Tim was running low."

She rolled her eyes. "Right. Like I expected you to understand." She glared at him. "We're leaving for home in an hour. Be ready." She stomped up to her room, not giving him a chance to reply.

He sighed, watching her go. "Right."

00

"Stop that."

"Stop what?"

"Changing the radio station," Casey replied irritably. "Can't you just settle on one station and be done with it."

"Find me a station that plays only good music and I will," Derek said casually.

She huffed, turning to the window. "I should've brought my iPod."

"Well, tough luck." He hit another preset button, smiling as classic rock filled the speakers. "Ahh."

Casey frowned in disgust. "Can't you listen to anything civilized?"

"Nope."

She rolled her eyes. "Of course not." She opened her mouth for another insult, but a loud 'clunk' noise cut her off. "What was that?"

"I dunno." Derek frowned, moving both hands to the wheel. The car swerved sharply and he cursed, hitting the brake and wrestling with the wheel.

Casey grabbed onto the door handle, her breath catching. "Did we blow a tire?"

"No," he grunted, brow furrowed. He maneuvered the car over the side of the highway, stopping right before an exit. He slowed to a stop and put into park, turning it off and jumping out of the car.

Casey huffed and followed him. "Well what happened?"

He popped open the hood, stepping back as a wave of steam escaped. "I don't know," he snapped. "That's what I'm trying to figure out."

"Okay, jeez."

He leaned down, waving the steam away to see inside the car. "Yeah," he said after a few moments. "Just what I thought."

"What?" she asked worriedly.

"I have no idea what I'm looking at."

"Ugh." She slapped his shoulder. "Could you be serious? We're stranded in the middle of nowhere."

"Look, we'll just walk into town," he said, pointing to the road sign on the exit, indicating food and gas. "There's bound to be a mechanic somewhere. Or at least a bus station."

"Derek, how far away do you suppose that town is?" she asked, annoyed.

"Couple miles." He shrugged.

"I can't walk miles," she insisted. "Do you not see the shoes I'm wearing?" She indicated her heels.

"Well I'm sorry that the limousine broke, Princess," he shot back. "But unless you want to push the damn car back home, this is our only option."

"Fine," she said shortly, frustrated. "Let's just go."

00

"Are we there yet?"

"No."

"Now?"

"No."

"How about now?"

"No, goddamn it."

Casey smirked, quieting for a moment. Watching the irritation spread across his face, she opened her mouth once again. "Now?"

"Do you ever shut up?"

"No." Muttering under his breath, he stalked forward, increasing his speed to walk ahead of her. "Aw, don't walk away mad," she called teasingly.

"You're such a brat," he called over his shoulder. Casey merely smirked.

In truth, Casey had barely managed to keep the awkwardness and weirdness away with snark and banter – but every time silence fell, the strange tension and pressing urge to do something – say something she shouldn't, do something she shouldn't. It seemed that the times when they were both quiet was when they were both at their most dangerous – when they both remembered wanting things that they had no right to want.

But with arguing, anger and noise – she regained control. Mostly, anyway.

"Over there," Derek called back, snapping Casey from her reverie.

"Finally," she sighed, seeing a garage slash gas station a ways down the road. "Let's hope they have a mechanic working today."

They trudged the few final yards to the garage, and Casey immediately collapsed on the curb in front, pulling off her heels and wincing. Derek rolled his eyes and walked inside, searching for somebody on duty.

"Can I help you?"

Derek whirled around to see an elderly woman dressed in what looked like an old fashioned business suit, her grey hair pulled up into an elegant bun. "Uh, yeah," he said. "Is there a mechanic working?"

"Yes, I'm the mechanic," she replied calmly.

"You're the mechanic?" he asked skeptically.

"Do you have a problem with that?" she asked, her tone level.

He raised his eyebrows, searching for words. "Uh, no," he settled on. "Our car broke down on the highway; I was hoping we could get a tow truck."

The woman smiled. "Tow truck's run by my son Robert. I'll get him for you." She raised one stylish eyebrow at him. "You better go take care of your girlfriend," she said pointedly.

"She's not my – " he started, but the composed woman simply walked off. "…girlfriend," he finished. Sighing, he turned back and walked out to Casey, who was still sitting on the curb, massaging her sore feet.

"Mechanic's calling a tow truck," he said shortly, sitting down on the curb beside her.

"Great," she said in relief. "Then maybe we can get outta here fast." He mumbled a response, digging in his coat pocket and pulling out a carton of cigarettes. She frowned in disapproval. "You know I hate it when you smoke."

"And I hate it when you nag," he muttered, the cigarette hanging out of his mouth as he dug in his pocket for a lighter. She huffed, pulling a pack of matches from her pocket and handing them to him. He looked at her in surprise, raising his eyebrows questioningly. "You carry around matches for me?"

"No," she said defensively. "Candles."

"Uh huh."

"You're the ones who need the tow truck?" Derek and Casey looked up at a burly man, dressed in overalls and a greasy shirt. Now this looked more like a mechanic.

"Yeah," Derek said, switching his cigarette to his left hand and reaching out to shake the other man's hand. "You're Robert?"

"Yup."

"Derek Venturi," he replied. "This is Casey."

Casey shook the man's hand as well, giving a polite smile. "Hi," she said softly.

"Well come on, I'll give you a ride back to your car," Robert said. "Hopefully it's something we can fix easy, and we can get you two lovebirds on your way."

"We're not – " Casey and Derek both stopped, realizing they were speaking in unison.

"Whatever you say. Truck's out back." Robert cocked a thumb towards the back of the shop. Casey glared at Derek, who held up his hands innocently. "You can stay here if you'd like," Robert said to Casey. "We'll have to come back here for billing anyway."

"Fine," she said, sighing. "Is there someplace I can sit and wait."

"My mother's having a party thing in the office," Robert replied. "You can go join in, she won't mind."

"That's great." Casey shot Derek a look. "Hurry back, _sweetheart,_" she said, all false cheer and affection.

"Will do, baby," he replied nonchalantly, following Robert around the side of the building. As he passed Casey, he casually ran a hand down her spine, ending with a highly inappropriate slap on the ass. Casey squeaked, whirling around to give him a glare. He smirked, moving quickly out of her reach as she reached to hit him. "Won't be long, honey!"

"I hate you," she hissed.

"I love you too!"

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Sorry it took so long. Transitional chapters are hard and always turn out slightly boring. But oh well.

I'm going on Spring Break vacation, so the next chapter will be at least a week in coming. Have a nice week off, everyone who has it. ;)


	8. Part Eight

Over 150 reviews in seven chapters? That's unreal, thank you all so much.

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Part Eight

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"Seriously. Three hundred bucks? That's ridiculous."

Casey shot him an irritated look. "Well if you'd kept your car tuned up like you were supposed to, this never would've happened."

Derek rolled his eyes. "Like I have time to care about the stupid fluid levels."

"It's coolant." Casey glared at him. "And I thought that all men loved cars. What kind of guy are you, anyway?"

"One that doesn't care about cars."

She huffed. "Well at least it's not taking them long to fix."

He snorted, shooting her an incredulous look. "We broke down five hours ago. How is that not long?"

"Well if you hadn't gotten lost guiding the guy back to the car – "

"You were the one that gave me faulty directions!"

"Like I asked you to call _me_," she snapped. "What made you think I'd know?"

"Well forgive me for ruining your perfect birthday plan," he said.

"Would you shut up? She's coming back."

As the statuesque mechanic came floating through the office, the pair plastered on smiles. "You two doing all right?"

Derek sneered. "We're peachy." Casey kicked his shin. "Ow."

Shooting him a glare, she turned to the other woman. "We're fine, Evelyn." She swallowed a yelp when she felt him kick her back.

Evelyn nodded, dropping a stack of invoices on the desk. "It'll be just a couple more minutes. Robert's just finishing up now."

"Great." Casey grinned. "Derek will be happy to pay you now, if you'd like." She kicked his shin. "Right?"

He smiled, sugary-sweet, and kicked her ankle sharply, making her bite her lip to keep back the cry of pain. "Right." She glared at him and tried to kick back, but he sat up higher in his chair, moving out of her reach.

"Oh, that's fine, I can send you a bill in the mail. It's how we usually do things." Evelyn smiled demurely. "Would you like something else to drink?"

Derek looked up from his staring match with Casey, their fight underneath the table still continuing. "No, just our car would be great." He hissed as Casey landed another shot, right below his knee.

"Well, perfect. I'll leave you to yourselves now."

"Wonderful," Derek replied, getting a kick in on Casey's thigh. As soon as the older woman was gone, he rolled his eyes. "Is it just me or is this place creepy?"

"It's just you," she replied succinctly, slouching in her chair to stomp on the hand resting on the armrest.

"Ouch!" He pushed on her leg hard, propelling her chair back several inches. "That hurt, you psycho."

"You're the one who follows girls home from classes."

He scowled. "One girl. Once. Two years ago, and she had my jacket, and I didn't know where she lived." He scowled and kicked her with the sole of his shoe, nearly pushing her off her chair.

"Ow!" She grabbed the table, narrowly missing a nasty fall. "Would you _cut_ it _out_?" She punctuated her words with sharp kicks to his legs.

"You started it." He kicked at her foot.

"Oh, that's mature." She stood up, wincing, and made a point to not retaliate.

"I'm sorry, have you met me?" He pushed on the back of her leg with one foot to make her stumble forward slightly, almost playfully. "My name's Derek Venturi, and I don't do grown up stuff."

She snorted. "I think I know this about you by now." Shaking her head, she wandered over to the window leading out into the main garage, watching as Robert and Evelyn puttered around Derek's car.

"So you wanna tell me why you're so against this party?" His voice was suddenly right behind her, and she started.

Turning around slightly, she shot him a withering look. "You mean the fake pleasantries, the incessant smiling, the same two questions over and over again – 'how's school? How's your love life?'" She snorted. "Yeah, I can't wait."

"Sounds horrible. A room full of people who care about you." She snorted. He came up beside her and leaned on the glass, watching Robert fiddle under the hood, while Evelyn stood over him, directing. "See, that's creepy." He shuddered, shaking his head.

She rolled her eyes. "It is not."

He turned to face her. "Oh? You mean the whole time you were here alone with the pod-lady, you didn't even get mildly freaked out?"

"No," Casey said defensively.

"She has no facial expressions. At all!"

"Maybe she just overdid the Botox," Casey offered, shrugging.

He scoffed, shooting her a look. "You need to stop standing up for people so much. People might start to think you're nice."

"I _am_ nice!"

He merely shook his head. "Rain man over there and I were gone for almost an hour, and you're telling me she didn't try to induct you into a cult or anything?"

Casey rolled her eyes and shifted her weight, moving her line of sight slightly to the left. Now looking over Derek's shoulder, she caught sight of movement outside of the small office. Evelyn was coming back. She panicked, waving her hands to get him to stop talking. "Shut up, Derek!" she hissed. He ignored her.

"I mean there's got to be at least a boiled rabbit around here or something – "

It was hard for Casey to tell exactly what her head did right then. Evelyn was coming closer and Derek was still in mock mode, and they were on a collision course for a very awkward situation. Not that it would've been the end of the world if the older woman were to walk in on Derek's ranting, but nevertheless the panic in her head snapped, and acting on split second instinct, she grabbed his face and kissed him.

Needless to say, he stopped talking. There was a moment where he stood there, frozen, and then his arms came up behind her back to rest on her shoulder blades. She shivered, remembering the scene from the couch, and he pulled her closer, moving her farther into the kiss.

The kiss itself was surprisingly gentle. Casey felt tremors race down her spine, settling in her abdomen. He didn't open his mouth, or move it any farther from what could be interpreted as an innocent kiss between friends. But the feeling of being so close to him, of his breath on her face, the warmth of his body and the pulse of his heart was enough to make Casey light headed.

Suddenly she heard a soft clearing of a throat, and remembered the reason for the kiss in a flash. They broke apart, moving back from each other with a few steps, and turned to see Evelyn, smiling eerily. "Are you quite finished?" the older woman asked. "I can leave you alone longer, if you'd like."

Okay, so maybe the no expression thing _was_ kind of creepy, Casey decided. "Uh, no, no, we're fine," she said quickly, a hot flush working its way up her neck. "Uh, is the car ready?"

"Yes," she said. "Follow me." Evelyn turned on her heel and strode out, and Casey immediately followed, not giving herself a chance to look back at Derek. "Robert refilled the coolant and tuned up your engine," Evelyn said, handing the keys to Casey. "He also filled up your gas tank – it was nearly empty. You should be able to make it to wherever you're going just fine."

"Thank you," Casey said gratefully.

"It was our pleasure." Evelyn gave a small, vague smile, looking between the two of them. "You should be good to each other."

Casey raised her eyebrows, turning her head so she couldn't see Derek at all, even out of her peripheral vision. "What?" she heard him ask. He sounded just as flustered as she felt.

"Something I say to all my customers," Evelyn explained. "Have a nice trip."

"Yeah." Casey blinked stupidly as the woman walked off, breathing deeply. "Well. Okay. Maybe she is creepy."

"I told you."

The two stood in awkward silence, both of them avoiding looking each other in the eye. "Well," Casey finally said. "I guess we should go. So we get there before nightfall, that is."

"Yeah." Derek cleared his throat. "Uh, good thing we went a day early anyway, if we'd left tomorrow we would've been late for the actual party."

"Uh huh. That'd be a shame." Casey laughed nervously. Derek nodded.

Taking a deep breath, Derek took the keys from Casey's hand, tossing them in the air. "Well, are you gonna stand around all day or go? I can't promise you won't get sacrificed to anything if you stick around here." He brushed past her, kicking her in the shin lightly.

She jumped out of her awkwardness, retaliating with a punch to his arm. "How do I know I can trust you to drive? You did almost break the damn thing."

"Now driving I like," he said, smirking. "Don't worry about that."

"Uh huh." Casey walked around to the passenger's side, eyeing him suspiciously. "If I see smoke, I'm pushing you out on the highway."

"Well, good thing the lock button's on my side."

00

"George! Watch out for the sauce!"

"What?"

"The sauce!" Nora called from the living room, where she was preoccupied with vacuuming.

"What toss?" George called back from the kitchen, trying to be heard over the vacuum. "Are we having a ring toss? Isn't that a little kiddy for Casey?"

"No, the _sauce_! Marti spilled it all over the – " A loud crash, followed by a George-sounding groan, echoed from the kitchen, and Nora sighed, switching off the vacuum. "Darn it, I told Edwin to clean this up." She hurried in, finding George sprawled on the floor, covered in red spaghetti sauce. "Oh, George," she said, suppressing a laugh at the awkward sight.

"Sauce," he said sourly. "Okay, I can hear you now." She shook her head, holding out a hand to help him up. He accepted, pulling himself to his feet with a groan, his knees creaking. "Ohhhh," he said, groaning. "Man. I think I'm getting old."

"Old news, Dad," Edwin said, entering the kitchen, a binder tucked under his arm. "Jeez," he said, stopping short at the red all over the floor and his father. "Who murdered the spaghetti?"

Nora gave him a withering look. "Marti knocked over the bowl, remember? And I sent her to get changed for dinner and asked you to _clean it up_? Because I had to vacuum?"

"Oh." Edwin smiled sheepishly, then straightened up. "Well, I was observing! You can't ask me to do stuff when I'm absorbed in the scientific process!"

"Observing?" George asked skeptically. "Well, why don't you observe yourself mopping the floor while I take _this_ – " he plucked the binder out of Edwin's hands, "with me to change my clothes?"

"Hey! That's mine!" Edwin reached for it, but George pulled it out of the way, holding it above the preteen's head. "Hey, hey, now. You're interfering with the scientific process. You can't mess with the process!"

"I just did," George replied unsympathetically. "Mop. Now?"

Edwin grumbled, turning and headed for the closet with the cleaning materials. Nora shook her head. "I don't know how we're gonna get this place ready for tomorrow, George. I can't even get it ready for dinner with Parker and Tim."

"It'll come together," George reassured. "Doesn't it always?"

Nora shot him a look not unlike the one she'd given Edwin. "Right. Very reassuring." The doorbell rang, cutting off any further ridicule, and she sighed. "I'll get that, you go…de-sauce." George smiled self-deprecatingly and headed downstairs to their basement room, leaving the door ajar behind him.

Nora shook her head, going through the living room, still messy from Marti's play date with Dimmy (and their 'experiments', which somehow involved dumping the entire can of flour all over the rug) to the front door. "I figured Parker and Tim would be gone longer," she muttered, swinging it open. "Hey – " she broke off, staring dumbly at her daughter and stepson standing on the front step. Momentarily stunned, she grasped for words. "Casey! You're…here!"

Her daughter smiled sweetly. "Yup!"

"You're…early!" Nora laughed nervously, shaking her finger at her daughter. "You weren't supposed to come until tomorrow afternoon."

"Oh I know," Casey simpered, moving forward to greet her mother in a hug. "But I just couldn't wait to come home, and so I got Derek to drive me back early!" She pulled back, smoothing her expression. "I'm not…interrupting anything, am I?" Derek gave a snort from behind her.

Nora gritted her teeth, giving a bout of strained laughter. "Oh. Oh, you're sneaky." She narrowed her eyes. "You couldn't give me one surprise party, could you?"

Casey raised her expression in fake surprise. "You're throwing me a party?" She pouted. "How _sweet_."

Nora grumbled, pulling back. "Come inside, both of you." Casey and Derek stepped inside the house, Derek dumping the bags by the foot of the stairs. "I'll get you someday," Nora vowed. "I swear by all that's holy."

"Keep dreaming, Mom," Casey said easily, smiling. "So where is everyone?"

"Well, Edwin's cleaning, Lizzie's out with Jake, and George and Marti are both changing – "

"Smerek!" Marti came bounding down the stairs right on cue, her dark hair bouncing behind her.

"Hey, Smarti." Derek reached out arms to greet her, sweeping the ten year old into a bear hug. "Is it me or have you gotten smaller?" he asked playfully, lifting her up so her feet dangled above the ground. "Really, you're supposed to be getting bigger. Get with the program."

Marti giggled, gripping Derek around the neck. "You're such a doof, Derek."

"Marti," Nora said, shaking her head. "What are you wearing?"

Marti pulled back from Derek, looking down at herself. "Clothes?"

Casey smothered a laugh. Marti was wearing what was obviously George's shirt, tied around her waist and the sleeve pushed up to her elbows, and a pair of Edwin's jeans, rolled up high and held up by a belt, cinched as tight as it could go. Already small for her age, Marti looked even younger dwarfed in the huge clothing.

Derek laughed. "Is it cross-dressing day?"

"Opposite day," Marti corrected factually. "I will be sitting on my head during dinner. You wanna help me?"

Derek ruffled her hair. "Only if you help me," he countered. Marti huffed.

Casey chuckled, coming forward to hug the little girl. "Oh, I missed you, Marti."

"I missed you too, Casey," Marti smiled, hugging back. "Wait. I mean, what are you doing here?" She faked a look of disgust. "I didn't think you'd _ever_ come back."

Casey made a face back, playing along. "Hey, I'm not liking it anymore than you are." Marti giggled.

Nora shook her head. "You'll be the death of me, sweetie." There was a knock on the door, and she moved toward the door again. "Oh, maybe this is the mailman showing up early. And I so wanted to _surprise_ him with that package tomorrow," she said sarcastically. Casey rolled her eyes.

"Hey hey, Mrs. V. We found confetti shaped like Casey!" Tim strode into the foyer, a plastic bag thrown over his shoulder.

Parker walked in after him, rolling her eyes. "It's bachelor party confetti, Nora. I tried to get something normal, but Dopey here insisted."

Tim puffed out his chest. "I happen to be the Party Genius, Doc," he replied. "And the Party Genius says that those little tiny babes look exactly like Casey."

"Is that a compliment?" Casey piped up, wry amusement on her face.

Parker and Tim whirled around. "Casey and Derek! You're…here!" Tim said, feigning surprise. "I totally didn't know about this at all!"

"Uh huh." Nora took the bag from Tim. "Why don't I take the 'babe confetti' into the kitchen and check on Edwin?" She shot Tim a look. "Anymore bachelor party decorations and I'll put you in charge of getting Marti dressed for the rest of the time you're here."

Tim saluted. "Will do, Mrs. V." He grinned, swatting Marti's ponytail. "Wouldn't want that, would be Mini Me?"

"No we wouldn't!" Marti puffed out her chest in a strangely similar impression of Tim. "'Dude, totally!'"

Parker and Casey burst out laughing. "That's almost eerie," Parker teased.

"She's got you pegged," Derek agreed.

Tim shook his head. "It's only another piece of evidence to the fact that all women love me." He gave Marti a high five. "Even the little ones."

"Stop macking on my sister, dude."

Casey took the opportunity to escape Derek's presence, walking over to Parker's side and taking her by the arm. "Have you seen the travesty upstairs yet?" she asked. "They turned my room into a guest bedroom!"

"Hey, they did it to mine, too," Derek pointed out.

Recognizing Casey's haste, Parker went along with it. "I did, but I don't think I've gotten the full impact yet, Case. You should show me."

Casey nodded, pulling Parker up the stairs hastily. "They knocked down my wall and crammed all my stuff into the basement! I mean, seriously."

Derek shook his head as the two hurried up the stairs. Marti watched them go quizzically. "What'd you do to Casey, Derek?"

Tim laughed. "Ask him when you're older."

"Dude." Derek shot him a look. "Shut up."

Upstairs, Casey pulled Parker into the large guest room that used to be both Derek and Casey's bedrooms and shut the door. "Okay, long story short, our car broke down, we were stranded in the middle of nowhere with a creepy mechanic and I kissed Derek."

Parker blinked. "Um, okay. Rewind and play, please."

Casey sighed. "He was talking about the mechanic, and I saw her walking in, and I couldn't get him to shut up so I kissed him," she explained briskly.

Parker's jaw dropped. "You did _what_?"

Casey shushed her. "It's not that big of a deal, it's just weird now, is all."

"You kissed him! That is a big deal."

"It was just to get him to shut up!" Casey defended herself. "Besides, he blew past it like it was nothing. It was nothing," she said firmly.

"Oh yeah, and Tim's a Rhodes scholar."

"Well, he does have fascinating opinions on the theory of relativity," Casey snarked.

Parker shook her head, a grin spreading across her face. "You kissed Derek."

Casey nodded. "I kissed Derek."

Parker's grin turned into a smirk. "How was it?"

Casey blushed. "I'm not – what kind of question is that?"

"A fair one! One that all girls ask after something like this." Parker pouted. "Please? You have to tell me, I'm your BFF. It's like, a rule."

"Don't call me your BFF, please. My cousin used to call me her BFF when we were little." Casey shuddered. "And besides, I'm not telling you."

"Oh come on."

"No."

"Just a little description? A few words?"

"No, Parker!"

"Fine, one word." Casey rolled her eyes. "Hey, I haven't been kissed by anyone since I broke up with Michael last semester, so you owe me at least one measly word."

"Oh, no Tim action?" Casey asked slyly.

Parker shoved her. "Come on."

"Fine, one word. Short." Parker huffed. "Fine, fine." Casey thought for a moment, biting her lip. "It was…cool."

Parker laughed. "Good enough." She grinned. "So will you be 'shutting him up' anymore in the future?" she asked, but Casey wasn't listening, focusing on the door to the hallway. "Hey, Spacey. What?"

"Do you smell that?" Casey asked suspiciously.

Right on cue, a smoke detector started going off downstairs, and muffled yelling floated up the stairs. Casey groaned.

"Man. Is it like this all the time around here?" Parker asked.

"Pretty much." Casey rolled her eyes. "Come on."

The two women raced downstairs, walking into the middle of chaos. Smoke was pouring out of the kitchen, and Nora was racing back and forth, waving a pillow to clear it and stop the beeping. Tim and Marti were helping – or rather, chasing each other around with coach pillows and pretending to help – and Casey could see Derek and George wrestling with the stove in the kitchen. Meanwhile, Edwin sat in the midst of it all, watching everyone and smirking, scribbling in his binder.

"What the hell were you cooking, Nora?!"

"I forgot about the pie, okay?"

"No fair, Tim, you jumped over the chair!"

"Edwin! Get off your butt and wave some pillows!"

"Oh my God." Casey shot a look at her friend, who stood there torn between shock and laughter at the scene. She turned back to the scene the family made, trying to decide which to deal with first.

Apparently, fate chose for her. Lizzie came barreling through the front door, her clothes in disarray and tear tracks across her face. "Casey! Thank God you're here!"

"Lizzie!" She walked determinately up to Casey and immediately stomped on her foot. Casey yelped. "Ow! Lizzie, what was that for?"

"I talked to Jake like you told me to and he laughed in my face! Thanks a lot for the advice!" She turned and stormed up the stairs, her fists clenched.

"Lizzie, wait!" Casey shot Parker a stricken look, motioning to the living room. "Deal with this?"

Parker shook her head dumbly. "Sure."

Casey muttered a thanks, running up the stairs after her sister. "Welcome home," she muttered.

00

Three hours later, Casey slipped into the guest room, shutting the door and leaning against the surface with a sigh. She'd finally gotten through to Lizzie, after much apologizing and a little fighting, though it'd taken most of the evening and all of the take-out dinner.

"Casey?"

She jumped, startled. "Derek!" she hissed. "You scared me half to death!"

"Sorry," he said, sounding anything but. He lounged on the newly-installed window seat, dangling a cigarette outside in one hand. "What are you doing in here?"

"I could ask you the same thing," Casey said. "Mom told me this was where I was sleeping."

Derek rolled his eyes. "Dad told me the same thing."

"Figures," Casey sulked. "Can't you go sleep in Edwin's room?"

Derek shook his head. "Tim's in there. Can't you take Lizzie's?"

"And start up the gigantic fight that I just spent four hours smoothing over? No thanks." Casey sighed. "And Parker's on the couch downstairs, and Marti's is way too small."

"And dirty," Derek commented. "I don't think she could find the floor if she tried."

"Why would she? She is your sister," Casey commented, going to sit on the bed. "Well, I guess we're stuck here."

"Wonderful," Derek said dryly, taking a drag.

Casey fell backwards onto her back. "You know you're taking the floor, right?"

"In your dreams," Derek retorted. "You take the floor."

"Excuse me, I will not," Casey snapped. "It's common courtesy for you to, Derek."

"When have I ever had courtesy?" he asked. "It's a king bed, Case, it won't kill you to share for a night."

"Says you," she replied, trying to quell the butterflies in her stomach.

"I do," he said, taking another drag and blowing it outside to the wind.

Casey scooted upwards on the bed, laying her head on the pillow. "I left my bag downstairs," she said.

"Go get it."

"I can't," she moaned, her eyes slipping shut. "I'm so tired."

"So sleep in your clothes."

"Ew."

"I'm not getting it for you, so don't even ask."

"Why not?" she whined. "Please?"

He snorted. "Nice try."

She huffed, settling back into the pillows. "Fine. Clothes it is, then."

He stubbed out his cigarette on the windowsill, tossing the stub outside. Leaving the window open for the slight breeze, he eyed Casey, sprawled out on the bed. "Well doesn't this look inviting."

Opening one eye to shoot him a glare, she moved her legs closer together. "Pervert."

He chuckled, stripping his shirt off and sitting down near her feet. "You know you're the strangest girl I've ever known, right?"

"What?" she asked softly. "How do you mean?"

"I think you're the only girl who's ever been alone in a bedroom with me and fallen asleep before the good part." He smirked. She grunted and pushed him off the bed with her feet. "Hey!"

"Keep going, Venturi. I can sleep for a long time."

"Does that mean there's a point when you wouldn't be?" he challenged, climbing to his feet.

She snorted, looking away. "No."

"Maybe? Some time? A possibility?" he teased, moving closer to her.

She bit her lip, keeping her eyes closed and her expression firmly blank. "Keep daydreaming, Derek. It's nice to see a guy with such imagination."

"Uh huh." She felt the bed dip on either side of her, and she opened her eyes to see him leaning over, his face close to hers. "Are you sure?"

Her breath caught in her throat. Unable to do anything but look at him, she was unprepared when he leaned down and kissed her.

It was short, and not unlike the one they'd shared earlier at the garage. Still, when he pulled away she was panting. They shared a long look, not breaking eye contact until Derek pulled away fully, moving to the other side of the bed. "Good night, Case," he said breezily, laying down a few inches away.

Casey slowly calmed her breath, reveling in the breeze from the window that cooled her flushed face. "Night, Derek."

The two lay in silence, falling asleep before either of them even bothered to get underneath the covers.

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Sorry for the delay, folks. Blame the Trificathon, Writing with the Mods, Jackie's birthday…well, okay fine, just blame me.


	9. Part Nine

Sorry for the wait, guys. I would've had this up a week ago but the document manager on the site decided to stop working.

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Part Nine

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"Give me my binder."

"I don't have your binder."

Edwin glared. "Lizzie! I know you have it, give it back."

Lizzie swung her legs on the kitchen bench idly, staring innocently over at her stepbrother. "I don't have the faintest clue what you're talking about, Edwin."

"You're just mad that I have all that stuff about you and Jake in it," Edwin accused.

Lizzie smirked. "Oh really?" She adopted an innocent expression. "I didn't know you were observing Jake and me."

"Oh really?" Edwin narrowed his eyes. "So you didn't sneak into my room last night and read the part where I detail all the signs that Jake was leading you on – " Lizzie's eyes narrowed at this, "and then got so mad that you stole it and hid it somewhere?"

"Why don't you check your mouth – oh wait! That spot's already been taken by your _foot_," Lizzie snapped angrily.

"The only thing that goes into this mouth is food and liquid. And possibly Allison McCauley's tongue."

Derek chuckled from his spot at the sink, and Casey shared a disgusted look with Lizzie. "You're just like Derek, Edwin. You never think about anyone but yourself," Lizzie said furiously, ignoring Derek's slight sound of indignation. "Why don't you come back when you grow some sensitivity?"

"Oh, like that'll happen! I wouldn't hold my breath if I were you!" Edwin called after Lizzie, who stormed out of the room in a huff. Shaking his head, he looked over at Derek. "Women, right?"

Derek snorted. "Says the fourteen year old who hasn't even met a real one yet."

Casey shook her head. "She's right, Ed. You could be a little more sensitive. She's obviously hurt, and you're not helping."

"I told her it was gonna happen," Edwin said, rolling his eyes. "Jake's a moron. But she didn't listen, and what happened?" He shrugged. "Not my fault she's deaf."

Casey sighed. "Yeah, Lizzie's right. You are too much like Derek."

Derek set down his coffee cup, frowning. "And what's wrong with that? I happen to think that I'm amazing."

"Yeah, we know, Derek," Casey replied flatly.

Derek smirked at her, giving her a look that went straight to her knees. Turning away, she took a gulp of her own coffee cup, ignoring his gaze pointedly.

"So, Derek," Edwin started, grinning in his own lascivious way. "How's the tail down in Toronto?"

Casey snapped her head toward Edwin, disgusted, and Derek choked on his coffee, coughing roughly. "Tail?" he repeated hoarsely. "Did you seriously just use that term?"

"Well what term would you prefer? Chicks? Action? Ass – "

"Oh God, just stop," Casey said, holding up her hand.

Derek shook his head, visibly trying to clamp down his laughter. "Oh man, bro. You need…something. I'm not sure what it is, but you should go get it." Casey snorted, still staring at Edwin incredulously.

"What?" he asked.

Casey merely shook her head. "Don't you have to get ready for school?" she asked pointedly, glancing at the clock.

"Oh, shoot!" Edwin looked down at his flannel pajama pants. "Um, yeah." He raced out of the kitchen and up the stairs.

Derek set his cup in the sink, shaking his head. "Really, I don't know where he gets it from," he said. "We all know what a complete gentleman I was in high school, so it _can't_ be me."

"Oh yeah," Casey retorted. "You were very respectful all right. At least once a month you called back after a date, once a year you opened a door for a girl – and, I heard that you even paid for Lisa Krist's dinner once." She whistled. "What a catch."

"Hey, did you ever see Lisa Krist eat?" Derek smirked. "Believe me, paying was going above and beyond the gentleman's call of duty."

Casey shook her head. "If that's how you act as a gentleman, I'm almost afraid to see you when you're rude."

Derek raised an eyebrow at her. "Oh, Casey, we all know that you like me rude." He leaned one hand on the counter near to where she was sitting, smirking. She could smell the soap he'd used in the shower, and see the stubble on the underside of his chin. "You like to think you like the nice guys, but underneath it all, you want more of a challenge."

"A challenge, huh?" she remarked. "Funny. I thought you said I wanted cookie cutters."

"Well." He shook his head. "Maybe it's more a question of need."

She flushed, opening her mouth to reply when she heard a loud knock at the door. He raised his eyebrows at her, and she scowled at him, kicking him in the shin lightly. "Keep dreaming, Venturi," she said, hopping off the bench and heading for the back door.

"Yeah, you really have no idea," he called, earning a smirk from over her shoulder.

Shaking her head, Casey opened the door and was promptly knocked over by 120 pounds of pure bouncing female.

"Casey! Oh my God, I can't believe you're home, I missed you so much, and I have so much to tell you, you've got no idea how awesome everything's been and I can't wait to tell you all about it – oh my God, is Derek here? Of course he's here, never mind – ooh, I can't believe you're back!"

"Emily," Casey gasped, patting her old friend on the back. "Em, honey, it's good to see you too, but oxygen is becoming an issue."

"Oh!" Emily released her, taking a step back and smiling sheepishly. "Sorry."

"It's okay." Casey smiled. "Wow. You look great. I love the hair."

Emily's hand reflexively went to her hears, the curls long gone and straight, silky black hair in their place. "Yeah, you like it? I wasn't sure, but…" she shrugged.

"No, it's very classy."

"Thanks!" Emily smiled brightly. "You look amazing too. Did you stop ironing your hair in the morning?"

"Yeah." Casey shrugged, feeling beyond tremendously awkward, and shot a look at her wavy strands of brown. "Too much work."

"Well it looks great." Emily bounced on her heels, her smile lighting up her face, apparently not noticing the tension. "We have so much to catch up on. It feels like we haven't talked in forever."

Because they hadn't, Casey realized with a guilty pang. "Yeah, it must've been last summer, at least."

"Yeah." Emily grinned. Silence reigned, and Casey fidgeted, trying to think of something to say. Wasn't this the girl she used to tell everything to? "So," Emily started finally. "What are you doing today?"

"Braiding friendship bracelets with me, of course." Casey whirled towards Derek's voice, shooting him a look.

"Derek!" Emily squeaked, then reddened. "Uh, I mean, oh, hey Derek. I totally didn't know you were here."

"Emily," Derek acknowledged. "Case, Dad asked me to take the sibs to school. You up for it?"

"Uh sure," Casey replied, breathing a silent sigh of relief. "Sorry, Em. Duty calls."

"Oh, that's fine," she said. "Hey, you know what? Sam's back in town, too, I ran into him at the gas station yesterday. We should all go out somewhere, after the – " she snapped her mouth shut, eyes widening.

"Surprise party?" Derek commented. Emily gasped. "Yeah, she knows."

Casey shrugged. "I'm very hard to keep things from."

"Oh." Emily grinned. "Well, okay. After the party tonight." She looked at Derek. "They opened up this cool music club downtown, it's great for dancing. It could be just the four of us, just like old times!"

"Old times, great," Derek said wryly. "Sounds fantastic."

Casey elbowed him. "Uh, sure," she said weakly. "We'd love to. Right Derek?"

He grimaced. "Right."

"Well, great!" Emily beamed, either not noticing Derek's unenthusiastic response or ignoring it. She pulled Casey into a quick hug. "It's so amazing to see you again, Case. Promise we'll catch up?"

"I promise," Casey replied, smiling a little fondly. "Bye, Em." She waved as the other woman ducked out the back door. "Whew."

"Well. How uncomfortable."

Casey shot him a look. "Your dad asked us to take the kids to school?"

"Technically." Derek shrugged. "I mean, he did ask. Then when I told him no, he took them himself about five minutes ago."

Casey rolled her eyes. "It's scary how easily you lie."

"It wasn't a lie, he did ask," Derek countered. "Besides, you needed rescuing, didn't you?"

Casey shifted uncomfortably. "Maybe a little. I could've handled it."

Derek shook his head. "I thought you kept in touch?" he teased.

"We did," she insisted. "Through email, and…stuff."

"Right."

"Who kept in touch?" Casey swiveled her head towards the kitchen, seeing a disheveled Parker shuffling towards the coffee pot.

"Me and Emily."

"Who actually _didn't_ keep in touch, which proves my point."

"You had a point?" Casey asked.

"Oh, it's in there somewhere."

Parker, a fresh cup of coffee in her hand, came into full view, leaning up against the pillar separating the kitchen from the laundry room. "High School Emily?" she asked. "The one that dated Derek?"

"Yeah." Casey shrugged. "You know that feeling you get when you run into somebody that you used to be really close to, but now have nothing to say to?" She sighed. "Yeah, it sucks."

"You're not even the one that dated her," Derek complained. "And on that point, why are we going out with them, again?"

"Because she's still my friend," she insisted. "And come on, you must be excited to see Sam again."

"If by 'excited' you mean 'dreading an awkward experience,' then yes."

Casey huffed. "It doesn't have to be awkward."

"Actually, he makes a valid point, Case," Parker piped up. "High school's an awkward time for everyone. Running into the people that witnessed that period in your life?" The redhead made a face of disgust. "Never fun, period."

Casey huffed. "Who asked you?"

"You're clinging to a sinking ship, babe." Derek smirked.

"Don't call me babe," Casey shot at him. "And we will have a good time, I swear to you."

"Yeah, whatever. Just don't come crying to me when you prove yourself wrong."

"Like that will ever happen." Casey scowled. "I wouldn't expect you to understand."

"Uh huh, like I don't understand anything else in your life?" Derek rolled his eyes. "Your default response is getting old. You should probably trade in for a new one. I, myself, prefer 'oh, Derek, your brilliance astounds me,' but you know, whatever."

Casey snorted. "I don't know how you do it, Derek, but you seem to have learned how to ignore the little voice in your head that warns you that you're about to say something stupid."

"It took me awhile, but I did manage it."

"Right." She shook her head, taking a deep breath and deciding to abandon the brewing fight. "I'm going to go get dressed." She shot a look at Parker. "You handle him."

"Oh, pawning off your jobs again, Case?" Derek winked at Parker and raced after Casey, following her up the stairs.

Parker merely blinked, watching them go. She turned back down to her mug, shaking her head. "I need some more of this."

00

Going home was always a funny feeling. It seemed to Casey like trying on an old favorite shirt or pair of shoes that don't quite fit anymore, no matter how much she'd try and jam them on. She distinctly remembered a time when she fit right into the chaos and flustered activity of the Macdonald-Venturi household – unwillingly at times, but still a part of it – and yet now she watched it all with an outsider's eye.

She supposed it was all a part of growing up – and as she flitted among the crowded first floor of the house, chatting and reminiscing, she found herself wishing, just for a second, that she could feel like she really belonged there.

Finding a lull in the conversation with a random party guest that she didn't remember and probably should have, Casey took the opportunity to slip away into the kitchen, leaning tiredly against the counter, reveling in the silence.

"Having fun?"

She started, her head snapping up. She saw the drink first, then her eyes rose to see Derek holding it. "Not really." She took the cup, sniffing it suspiciously.

"Just Diet Coke, I promise. Poured it myself."

"Thanks." She sipped it, and then grimaced. "Derek!"

"Okay, fine, there might be a little rum in there too."

She sighed, unable to suppress a smile. "If I didn't need this more than anything right now, I'd hit you."

Derek smiled, leaning against the counter next to her. "It's not that bad of a party," he said. "At least Dad and Nora aren't dancing."

She snorted out a laugh. "No blind dates."

"No PDA."

"No bathroom mishaps."

Derek smirked. "Though I could go for a shaving cream fight."

She smiled cheekily, her tongue poking through her teeth. "You wouldn't be able to handle me."

"Are you sure about that?"

She flushed, hiding it with a disdainful look. "Nope."

"Right." He shook his head, looking up at her through his bangs in a move that made him look five years younger. "Well, probably not."

"That's what I thought."

"You could _handle_ me all you want, however."

Casey raised an eyebrow. "I'd rather not, thanks."

"Whatever floats your boat." She looked away, smiling, and they lapsed into an easy silence.

"You know what's strange?" she said after a moment. "This is really the most pleasant conversation I've had all night."

Derek shot her a skeptical look. "That is the first drink you've had, right?"

"Yes."

"Just checking."

Casey nudged him. "Just take the compliment, will you?"

"Fine." Derek gave a mock sigh. "I do so deserve it."

She rolled her eyes. "Aand, the moment's over."

"Well, the night's young. We may have another one." He reached over and caught a strand of her hair, running it through his fingers before letting it fall back to her bare shoulder.

She groaned. "Oh God, that was such a line."

He took a step back, laying a hand over his heart. "That hurts."

"No it doesn't." She hit his shoulder playfully. "Don't you have any original material?"

"Well, I could compare your eyes with the stars, but I used that on somebody tonight already," Derek explained seriously. "Now, I still have the 'your skirt would look even more amazing on my floor' line, but I think I'll save that until after a few more drinks."

She snorted. "Yeah, you're so smooth."

"Of course, I could just tell you that you look really fucking gorgeous tonight," he said, his eyes never moving from hers. "But then again, you already know that."

She bit her lip. "Yeah, I kinda got that idea from Tim's reaction to my neckline earlier."

He nodded. "So I guess the 'incredibly sexy' part came with that, too?"

She shrugged. "Pretty much."

Leaning in closer, he reached one arm around to the counter on the other side of her waist, effectively trapping her. "So it wouldn't do much good at all for me to say it, would it?"

"Nope," she breathed. "Absolutely none at all."

"Then I guess it's a good thing I always follow the rules, huh?"

Casey shivered, unable to process much in her brain other than the mere fact of his proximity. "Yeah."

It felt as if her entire body was alive, nerves prickling and tingling everywhere beneath her skin, hyper-alert and completely aware to every movement he made, or possibly would make. She didn't dare to break eye contact, or even move a muscle, though it felt like all her insides were quivering.

"Casey?" Nora's voice jolted them from their stand off and Derek sprang away from her, not nearly in time for Nora not to notice their closeness. "Derek?" Casey's mother's brow furrowed, a look of hesitant suspicion slowly spreading across her normally open, honest face. "What's going on?"

"Uh, nothing," Casey said quickly, voice hoarse. "We were just…talking."

"Talking?" Nora repeated skeptically.

"Fighting," Derek amended after a moment. "Well, disagreeing. You know." He shrugged lamely.

"Uh huh." Nora looked between the two of them carefully, as if searching for signs of untruth. "Well, you're missing the party," she said slowly. "Sam just showed up, he's been looking for you."

"Uh, right," Casey said. "Sorry. I just…needed a drink. And then I…disagreed with Derek."

"Right." Nora tried for a grin. "Well, c'mon birthday girl, let's get a move on."

"Great," Casey replied, forcing a smile. Avoiding Derek's gaze, she walked briskly past her mother and into the living room, squelching the urge to look over her shoulder.

Nora watched her go, holding the door open, then threw a look at Derek. "Disagreeing?"

"Yup." Derek held her gaze, unwavering.

"Right," Nora said slowly. "Well. Emily's looking for you. Something about a club."

"Thanks," he said shortly.

Giving him one last, long look, she returned to the living room, letting the door swing shut behind her. Derek sighed, blowing a hard breath out between his teeth. "Right. Party. Let's get it started."

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	10. Part Ten

I swear, ff-dot-net is _such_ a bitch. When it's not talking about me behind my back or flashing its tacky last-season highlights in my face, it's not lettin' me upload documents and _absolutely_ not sending me alert emails! I completely would not even talk to it if it didn't have such a nice ass.

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Part Ten

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"I told you this party would suck."

Parker looked upwards and behind, seeing Casey leaning on the back of the couch where Parker was sitting. "And I believed you."

Casey shook her head. "Mom walked in on Derek and me in the kitchen."

Parker snorted, raising an eyebrow. "You and Derek doing what in the kitchen?"

"Talking," Casey said defensively. "Well, flirting."

"Ahh." The redhead shrugged. "Well, at least you weren't having a quickie up against the fridge or something."

Casey flushed, looking away. "Well, she's all suspicious now." She huffed. "She tried to grill me right afterwards, kept asking about how much Derek 'does for me,'" Casey said, using finger quotes. Parker giggled into her drink. "Shut up! What if she finds out?"

"Finds out what? Nothing's happened yet!" Parker rolled her eyes. "Which is completely disappointing, by the way. My opinion of you two is slowly lowering."

"You're so helpful," Casey said dryly. She turned her head to survey the crowded room and gasped, catching sight of a burly blonde man standing by the fireplace. "Oh God, is that Ralph?"

Parker swiveled her head to where Casey was looking. "Who's Ralph?"

"It is Ralph! Holy…I can't believe she invited…oh, man," Casey groaned, crouching down. "I hate parties."

Parker turned around in her seat, leaning over the back of the couch to watch Casey sneak away. "Who the hell is Ralph?"

00

Derek slipped out of the kitchen after what he hoped was a non-suspicious amount of time since Casey's departure, heading through the living room towards the front door, hoping to sneak outside for a cigarette. His plans were thwarted however when he ran directly into Sam. Literally.

"Sorry, man – Derek?"

"Hey," Derek replied. "Wow, it's great to see you. Well, see you around – "

"Wait, hold up, dude," Sam protested laughing. "It's been awhile. How you been?"

Derek stuffed his hands in his pockets, smiling stiffly. "Fine. Great."

"Yeah." Sam took a sip of his drink. "Great party. Who spiked the Coke?"

"Uh, Casey's friend, Parker." Derek gestured to the redhead across the room, talking to a guy who looked eerily like that drummer guy from high school. Wait a minute…

"The one talking to Ralph?" Sam shook his head and whistled. "Nice."

Derek shook his head. "Oh, me and Parker? No, we're not…" he shook his head and whistled mockingly.

"Tough break, dude." Derek sighed, shaking his head. "So whatcha been up to? You still playing hockey?"

Derek blew out a breath, looking at the front door longingly. "Yup. You?"

"Nothing official." Sam shrugged. "School takes up too much time."

"Yeah, it happens."

"So what's your major anyway? Something in sports?"

"Actually I'm in film school," Derek replied. "I switched last minute so I've got another semester to go."

"Oh, cool." Sam shuffled his feet. "Sounds fun."

"Uh huh." Derek grimaced painfully. Another awkward silence ensued. "So this is weird," he said after a moment.

"Tell me about it." Sam grinned ruefully.

"Hey guys!" a chirpy voice called. Derek groaned.

"Hey Emily," Sam greeted. "Wow, you look great."

Emily twirled, her skirt flaring out around her knees. "Really? Thanks, Sam." She laid a hand briefly on his arm and he smiled widely. Then she abruptly turned to Derek, smiling with all her teeth. "Hey Derek. Having fun?"

"Bunches," he said dryly.

"Yeah, I know what you mean. It's like a regular high school reunion in here," she said. "Was that Ralph I saw earlier?"

"Apparently," Derek replied.

"I heard he was in jail," Sam said.

"Really?" Emily replied. "Cuz Dana Owens told me he was gay."

Sam snorted. "Gay? Well, he's vain enough for it." Emily giggled.

Derek stared them both down, then turned away impatiently. "Well, a vain convict, sounds dangerous. I should probably go save Parker from his scary homosexuality."

Emily's expression fell. "Oh, well, sure. But you're still coming to the club tonight, right? So we can catch up?" Derek looked back at her and saw Sam staring at the short brunette, an almost crestfallen expression on his face.

Derek raised his eyebrows. "If Casey's going, I'm going," he said. "But I think Sam's appearance is sketchy, you should work on him." He turned away without waiting for an answer, heading to Parker's side.

"Derek!" Parker grinned at him. "Ralph here was just telling me about your musical career," she said teasingly.

"Really?" Derek replied, smiling tensely. "Great!"

"Hey, Derek, long time no see," Ralph said, punching him in the arm.

Derek looked at his arm, then back up at Ralph. "Okay."

"So, Casey ended up singing for you guys, huh?" Parker asked.

"Oh, yeah. The hot sister saves the day." Ralph grinned. "Is she here, by the way?"

"Okay," Derek cut in loudly. "Ralph has to go now."

"Oh, but Derek, Ralph was gonna sing me you guys' winning song," Parker simpered.

"We didn't win," Derek said shortly. He turned to Ralph. "Say goodbye."

Ralph shook his head. "Whatever." He waved a hand, walking off and making a beeline for the drinks.

"Wow, I can't believe the people you used to hang with. No wonder you stick by Tim, he must seem like Einstein in comparison."

"To be fair, I didn't know back then that he'd continue to wear the eyeliner into his twenties," Derek replied.

Parker merely smiled ambiguously over the rim of her cup. "So, I heard you had Casey pinned down in the kitchen earlier. Better be a bit more discreet or Mama MacDonald might catch on."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Derek replied smoothly.

"Right," Parker replied skeptically.

"Oh my God." Casey popped up by Parker's side, moving so that she was shielded from the crowd. "If I have to talk to one more vague acquaintance that I have nothing in common with, I'm gonna go insane."

"Maybe you could pull a Julia Stiles and start dancing drunkenly on the dining room table," Parker offered. "That always clears the room real quick."

Casey scowled and grabbed her friend's drink. "Not helping." She drained the rest of the cup's contents quickly.

"Well, we've still got club night with Emily and Sam to look forward to," Derek said. "Thanks _so_ much for that."

Casey rolled her eyes. "At least it's only two people. I can handle two."

00

"I cannot handle this. What the hell was I thinking?"

Parker lounged on the king-sized bed, smiling dreamily. "This bed is awesome. I can't believe you got to sleep on it last night. With Derek, no less."

"Nothing happened," Casey muttered, digging through her suitcase. "Where are my cargos? I swear I packed them."

"Cargos?" Parker sat up straight. "You can't wear cargos to a club, are you nuts?"

"Apparently!" Casey flung several articles of clothing across the room in frustration. "Since I committed to going out with not only my ex-boyfriend – the first ex-boyfriend I ever had, no less – but also what I can safely say is my ex-best friend, too, judging by how many things we _couldn't_ think of to say to each other earlier." Clothes flew as Casey rummaged through the bag, and Parker ducked, nearly missing being smacked in the face by a pair of shorts. "Not to mention the fact that Emily also happens to be Derek's ex as well. What am I supposed to say to her tonight?"

"Uh…"

She continued throwing clothes over her shoulder haphazardly, for once, ignoring the mess. "'Oh, yeah, I've been doing great, Em,'" she pantomimed. "'I'm having a pseudo-flirtation with your ex-boyfriend, my stepbrother, who you just happen to still have a complete hard on for. I realize it's a weird and just a little bit disturbing, but since I've apparently gone insane, he's now incredibly hot and I can't help myself!'"

Parker grabbed a high heel from Casey's hand hastily. "Don't throw that," she said, setting it down gingerly. "You could just summarize all that with a simple, 'thanks for dumping Derek,' you know."

"He dumped her actually," Casey muttered. "Ugh. What do I wear?"

Parker bounced off the bed and leaned down into the scattered remains of Casey's suitcase. "Try the blue mini," she suggested, pulling out a short skirt. "And your Calvin Klein top. The one with the little bead string things over the shoulder."

Casey pulled out the shirt from underneath a pile of what looked like Derek's shirts, grimacing. "God, he's so freaking messy."

Parker shot a look at the contents of Casey's suitcase strewn about the room. "Uh huh," she said. "Men usually are."

Casey let out a frustrated sigh, turning a pleading face towards her friend. "Hey, Park…"

"Oh, oh no. Don't even think about it." Parker shook her head, frowning. "No way are you gonna get me to come on this thing. You made your own mess this time."

"Oh c'mon, please?" Casey pleaded. "Do you know what it's gonna be like if you don't come? Emily will be trying to start conversation, Sam will be awkwardly helping, Derek will make faces at me and I'll be sitting silently in the corner, trying to disappear into the wall. Do you really want to do that to us?"

"I have no problem with doing that to you."

"Parker!"

"Casey, I have a date with Tim tonight. A real date, including movie, dinner and none of your siblings. And he's even _paying_." Parker shot her friend a look. "Do you have any idea how rare that is? For Tim, I mean?"

Casey pouted. "You suck."

"Sometimes, but they usually like it." Parker grinned, and Casey rolled her eyes. "You'll be fine."

"Yeah right." Casey harrumphed. "Fine, just go and enjoy your nice, normal, _non-awkward_ date. Never mind the fact that you suck and I hate you."

"Oh don't worry, I won't mind at all."

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"Derek, Sam and Emily are here!"

Derek sighed, reclining further into the couch. "Tell them I'm in the shower!"

Nora poked her head in from the kitchen. "Oh, so you'd rather stay here and help with the after-party clean up?" she asked brightly. "How sweet of you!"

"Fine, fine, I'm going." He propelled himself upwards, moving amongst the party debris littering the living room. He pushed through to the back door, seeing Sam and Emily engaged in hushed conversation. "Planning an assassination?"

They jerked apart, stiff smiles popping into place. Emily stepped forward first, relaxing her face into a more natural expression.

"Hey Derek!" She grinned brightly, walking straight up to him and wrapping her arms around his neck. "It's so good to see you. We didn't really get a chance to catch up earlier."

"Uh, yeah." Derek cleared his throat, patting Emily on the back awkwardly. "Great."

She pulled back, slightly flushed. "So, is Casey coming?"

"She should be," he said. "You know what? I'll go get her." He took advantage of the out, exiting the small space hastily.

Jogging through the living room and ignoring Nora's quizzical expression, he went straight upstairs to the guest room. He entered without knocking, walking straight in on Casey changing in the process. "Derek!" she yelled, grabbing her shirt and covering her chest.

"Oh, hey Case," he said, suppressing a laugh. "Nice, uh…" he faltered as she shot him a death glare. "…shoulders."

"Get. Out."

Derek merely shook his head, closing the door behind him. "Why would I do that when Emily and Sam are downstairs? I'm enjoying this view much better."

She huffed. "At least turn around."

"Whatever you say." He leaned against the door, facing the wall and keeping her figure in his peripheral vision. She resumed her dressing, but paused every once in awhile to glare at him suspiciously. He chuckled again.

"I'm so happy that you find seeing me naked so amusing."

"I didn't see you naked, I saw you in your bra. If I saw you naked, there'd be a much different reaction, trust me."

"Uh huh, right." She pulled her top over her head and slipped into her shoes. "Get outta here before Emily or Sam see you."

He held up his hands, backing towards the door. "Oh, God forbid." She stuck her tongue out childishly. "Mature."

"Pot, meet kettle."

He made a face at her, making her giggle softly. Shaking his head, he backed out of the room, closing the door behind him, and subsequently running smack dab into Nora.

"Derek," she said neutrally. She was leaning against the wall by Lizzie's room, a basket of laundry balanced on her hip.

Derek faltered slightly, then straightened up, quickly regaining his composure. "Nora," he replied. "Playing house maid?"

She smiled faintly. "'Tis my natural born duty," she intoned formally.

He shrugged. "I'd help, but…well, you know what I'm like with helping people."

"That I do." Nora hoisted the basket higher on her hip, seemingly nonchalant, though her body language gave away her tension. "Casey's almost ready?"

"Almost," Derek replied impartially.

"Ah." She was silent for a moment, her eyes looking past her stepson to the door to the guest room, as if trying to look past the wood. "How is Casey doing nowadays? She must be busy; I hardly ever get to speak with her."

Derek nodded. "Really busy. Senior year, and all that." He chuckled weakly. "I – I barely even see her myself."

"Mmm, I remember how that goes," Nora replied, her eyes still glued to the door, over Derek's shoulder. "Still…I'm a little worried about her." Derek merely nodded again, keeping stubbornly silent. Nora seemed to snap out of her slight daze, her eyes moving to Derek, who barely managed to keep from shrinking beneath her sharp focus. "You should keep an eye on her," Nora said quietly. "She's not as strong as she seems, sometimes."

"Casey?" Derek tried for humor. "Casey's a modern-day Wonder Woman."

"Maybe," Nora said, smiling faintly. "But still." Her tone became heavy and meaningful. "You certainly are in the ideal spot to…_watch over_ her, right?"

Derek shifted uncomfortably, the knot in his stomach worming its way up to his chest. "Yeah, I guess."

Nora raised an eyebrow, giving him the patented 'I know you're not _this_ stupid' look. Derek knew it well. "So then do an empty nested mother a favor and keep an eye out, okay?"

He cleared his throat. "Sure," he said nonchalantly.

Nora smiled. "Good." She took a brisk breath, looking down at her laundry with a smile. "While I'm at it, you got anything you need washed?"

The mood broken, Derek hesitated slightly, a bit taken aback. "Uh, no."

"Okay then." She switched gears, smiling brightly. "Well, have fun tonight."

He smiled falsely and moved down the hallway. "Great. I – we will. Sure thing." He gave a half-hearted wave, escaping downstairs.

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Sorry for the abrupt cut-off, this chapter was originally a huge, gaping monster. Lots of drool, wasn't pretty. So I beheaded it. Hi-yah!

But get ready for next time, y'all, we're droppin' it like it's hot, yo.


	11. Part Eleven

Awright, people. After much reworking, it _is_ now hot, and we _are_ droppin' it. Yo.

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**Part Eleven**

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The club was loud, huge and anonymous. Strobe lights pulsed to the beat of the heavy bass line pounding through the speakers, and the crowd throbbed frantically, masses of bodies intermingling and moving to the music.

"Isn't this great?" Emily yelled.

"What?" Casey shouted back, leaning closer in order to hear.

"I said it's great! Right?!"

Casey frowned. "What do you hate?"

Emily shook her head, straining her voice to be heard over the deafening music. "No! This is great!"

"We're late?! What?!"

Emily gave up, shaking her head and motioning towards the back of the club, where the bar was located. Leading her friend through the crowd, they moved away from the dance floor and, thankfully, away from the overwhelming speakers, as well.

"Man, what a rush!" Emily exclaimed, throwing her purse on the bar and hopping on one of the stools. "I can't wait to get out there and dance. Can't you?"

Casey joined Emily at the bar, throwing a look backwards to the crowd. The frantic movements of the dancers reminded Casey's of Beck's party, and the thronging, desperate crowd of partygoers that had been warped in Casey's mind as another chilling puzzle piece to that nightmarish evening.

She shuddered, turning away from the dancers. "Yeah, can't wait," she said weakly.

Emily grinned. "It's gonna be a good night, you'll see." Casey could only just manage a smile.

She waited until Emily gave her order to the bartender, and then ordered a martini for herself. "So," she said, once the drinks were served. "How long do you think it'll take the guys to find us?"

"Considering how many halter tops there are between us and the door? A while," Emily said, and Casey thought she detected a hint of bitterness in her tone. But a split second later, Emily was all smiles, light giggles pouring out of her mouth. "But, who cares about them? I wanna know everything about Toronto. How's your sex life?"

Casey choked on a mouthful of gin. "Um, sex?" She laughed nervously. "What's that?"

Emily waved a manicured hand. "Oh, pfft. There's gotta be somebody, there's always somebody – a crush? Fantasy? Flirtation in the library line?"

Casey snorted. "Uh, no. No flirting in libraries. Sorry."

Emily eyed her. "Nobody?" she asked again slowly.

"Well," Casey said after a moment, relenting. "Maybe someone. But he's – I mean, it's weird."

"Weird, huh?" Emily grinned. "Weird in a fun way or weird in a disturbing way?"

"Um, both?"

"Ah." Emily quirked a smile. "Well, if that's the case, then I think you need another drink."

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"Holy shit, we just stepped into a rap video."

Sam turned to Derek, squinting from the strobe lights. "What?!"

"Nothing." Derek motioned to the back. "Let's find the girls!"

Sam shrugged, motioning to his ears. "Can't hear you, dude."

Derek huffed, heading toward the back of the club. If he knew Casey, she'd want to get away from the music at first.

Sure enough, he spotted the two women sitting at the bar, talking. Emily was gesturing animatedly with her hands, a huge smile on her face, energetic and lively. Casey, on the other hand, looked like she was barely awake.

He gestured to Sam, then moved up behind the slumped brunette. "Hello ladies," he said, making both them jump in surprise. "Having fun already, Case?"

"Yup," she said falsely. He shook his head, leaning a hip against Casey's stool, one hand on the bar behind her.

"Hey, Derek!" Emily smiled. Derek looked at her blankly and nodded.

Sam came up behind Derek and smiled hesitantly. "Hey Casey. Em – Emily." His voice faltered on Emily's name, and Derek looked over his shoulder at him curiously.

Emily's smile faltered. "Hey, Sam," she said in a decidedly flatter tone. "You guys get here okay?"

"Yeah."

An awkward silence fell, and Derek rolled his eyes. "Yup. Taxis – pretty reliable."

"I don't know why we couldn't just take your car," Casey said, quirking an eyebrow.

"You don't take a car to a club," Derek told her. "Either you get drunk and try to drive it, or someone else does. It's inevitable."

"Maybe the clubs you go to," Casey muttered.

"For your information, I don't go to clubs," Derek said. "I go to parties. Clubs, on the other hand, are a part of a very pathetic, lonely step that I am not ready to stoop to just yet."

"You mean like you are now?"

"This was not my idea, so it totally doesn't count."

"Wow," Sam said. "So you two still do that, huh?"

Casey and Derek stopped their mini-argument, looking over at Sam. "What?" Casey asked.

"The fighting thing," Sam clarified. "Some things never change."

"Yup," Emily cut in, too brightly. "Sky's blue, grass is green, Angelina Jolie is adopting foreign children, and Casey and Derek are bickering like an old married couple. Check!"

Casey snorted. "We are _not_ married."

"Funny that's what you focus on," Derek pointed out, smirking. Casey elbowed him.

Emily cut the air with a high-pitched giggle, making the other three recoil slightly. "Oh, Derek, you're still funny as ever."

"Uh, okay?"

Emily giggled again, laying a hand on his arm. "I always forgot how you could make me laugh."

Derek raised an eyebrow. "I did?"

Emily squeezed his arm, laughing again. "Oh, Derek!" Casey scowled at them, huffing.

Derek shot a look at Sam, who was looking stonily into the crowd of dancers, jaw clenched. He pulled his arm away on the pretense of grabbing Casey's drink and taking a swig. "Ew. Gin?"

"Shut up. That's _my_ booze, thank you very much."

Derek waved a finger at her. "Sharing is caring, Case."

"Go share with yourself," Casey said, taking the slim glass back from him and draining its remaining contents. "I'm sure you're used to doing that anyway."

"So Emily," Sam broke in. "Wanna dance?"

Emily's smile fell flat, and she choked on a mouthful of air. "Uh…" She shot a look at Casey, who rose her eyebrows quizzically.

"Go ahead, Em," she said. "Weren't you just saying how you couldn't wait to start dancing?"

"Oh, well, yeah, but…"

"C'mon, it'll be fun." Sam turned hopeful eyes to the short brunette, smiling tentatively.

Emily hesitated, and Derek spoke up. "Go on, Emily. Casey and I'll be just fine." He stared her down, and she finally relented.

"Okay," she said, taking Sam's hand. She threw one last fleeting look at Derek and Casey before disappearing into the dance floor.

"So, wow, thank God they're gone."

Casey looked back from the direction Emily and Sam had gone just in time to see Derek lower himself into Emily's seat. "You're in Emily's seat."

"So?"

"So, you're not Emily."

"Really?" Derek pretended to gasp. "Are you sure? I've always kinda thought of myself as the over-dyed wannabe type."

Casey's mouth fell open and she punched him in the arm. "Mean!"

He shrugged. "I try." He motioned to the bartender and in a split second, a beer was placed in front of him. "Besides, she's off gettin' the angst on with Sam."

Casey gave him a blank look. "They're dancing."

"I know." An amused expression flitted across his face.

"What?"

"Nothing."

Casey frowned. "No, what is it?"

"What is what?" Derek asked, deliberately obtuse.

She huffed. "Oh, you're not pulling that crap with me. Are you trying to annoy me?"

"Maybe."

She stared him down. "Derek."

He stared back at her for a second, then broke away from her gaze, laughing. "Chill. They seem like they have a thing, is all."

"'A thing?'" Casey raised a skeptical eyebrow. "How exactly can you figure that? We've been here two days."

"There was a vibe," Derek defended himself.

"A vibe," Casey repeated doubtfully.

"Yes, a vibe, and could you stop repeating everything I say, Miss Echo? I know you noticed it."

Casey shook her head, taking a sip of her drink. "Whatever. Emily and Sam?" She snorted. "That's totally ridiculous."

"How?"

She raised her eyebrows at him. "Um, duh? Sam went to college here in town, and Emily goes to school in Newfoundland?" Casey's face twisted in a faint expression of disgust. "Not to mention that Emily's apparently fallen back on old habits."

"You mean the high pitched giggling every time I open my mouth?" Derek grimaced. "Yeah, can't say I've missed that."

"You dated her," Casey reminded him.

"Uh, yeah, haven't really missed that part either." He studied her perturbed expression, then grinned. "Are you jealous?"

Casey jerked slightly, a splash of alcohol splashing over the rim of her glass. "What? No. You're crazy."

"Uh huh." He sighed, leaning back and slipping one arm onto the back of her chair in an overtly arrogant pose. "You know what? I think I figured you out."

"Figured me out?" she repeated. "You needed to figure me out?"

"You can be very confusing," he informed her.

She pulled a puzzled face. "Wait, did you not get the manual?"

"There was a manual?" He smirked. "Damn. The mail is so unreliable these days."

She sighed, shaking her head. "I should've just left it under your pillow like I was originally planning to."

Derek chuckled, leaning forward into her personal space. "All I know is, you're dying to dance with me."

"Oh really?" she asked skeptically. "How do you figure?"

"I told you I figured you out."

"Don't be so sure," she replied, rolling her eyes.

"Casey, Casey, Casey. There's no need to hide your intense desire anymore," he said, slipping his arm around her shoulders. "It's okay," he leaned in, adopting a sincere expression. "I _know_."

She wiggled her torso until he removed his arm. "Dream on."

"C'mon. One dance?"

She flipped her head around, regarding him. "And how do I know this offer is genuine?"

Derek scoffed. "I am always genuine. I never say anything I don't mean."

She laughed. "Uh huh."

"Well…" he tilted his head to the side. "Maybe I can fudge the facts a little. Sometimes."

"More like all times."

He shot her a look, grabbing her wrist. "Come on. One dance won't kill you." He gestured to the floor. "And look! It's even a slow one. Or – slower than the rest, anyway."

Casey swiveled her head, seeing that in fact, the frantic pulsing of the lights had slowed, and the tempo had fallen into a lazy, R&B beat. She snuck a look at Derek, who was smirking at her knowingly. "One dance," she relented. "A short one. And keep your hands where I can see them."

"You're doubting me?" He trailed his hand down her forearm, grabbing her wrist and pulling her to her feet. "I'm almost offended."

"I'm almost positive that you're not," Casey shot back, an easy smile on her face. Derek smiled and said nothing, leading her out onto the dance floor.

The floor was crowded with dancers, couples, friends and even small groups all swaying and gyrating sensually to the music. The lazy sexuality of it made Casey shiver slightly, goosebumps racing over her skin. Derek pulled her to a clear spot, wrapping his arms around her waist without hesitation. Casey stiffened initially, but relaxed in his grip, bringing her arms up to rest on his shoulders. Together, they swayed softly to the beat, Casey's dancer's body naturally falling into the rhythm and Derek following her lead.

"See? Not so terrible."

Casey smiled softly. "Maybe. But it's only been a few seconds. I'm sure something catastrophic will happen."

He shook his head. "I thought you were the optimist in this relationship, Case."

"And I thought you were keeping your hands visible," she said pointedly, throwing a look over her shoulder.

He grinned, unfazed, and stopped his hands' slow downward descent. "Okay, I'll make you a deal," he said. "I won't try anything until you do."

"Really?" Casey eyed him for a long moment, then snorted. "I don't believe you."

"No, no, I'm serious." His expression turned serious. "I'm done with the avoid-and-deny game, okay? But you're not, and I get it. Okay?"

She bit her lip. "I'm not playing games."

"You are, and you know it."

She sighed, sliding her arms higher to encircle his neck. "I didn't mean to play games with you."

"Yeah, I know." He pulled her closer until her body was flush with his, her face pressed into his neck. "I can go slow," he murmured. "I'll go as slow as you want me to."

Tears pricked at her eyes, and Casey furiously blinked them back. Words seemed inadequate; it's not as if she had any idea what to say anyway. She felt like she was wrapped in a cocoon of warmth and safety – the heat from his body, his breath on her skin, his arms around her waist and his face buried in her hair all providing a level of comfort she'd never thought possible from him before.

Feeling bold, she held her breath and buried further into his embrace, turning her face to press a kiss to the base of his neck. She felt his arms tighten around her, and she smiled, moving one hand into his hair and trailed her lips over his skin again, moving upward slowly. She stopped when she reached his ear and bit down lightly, grinning when she heard him groan.

"Casey…"

"Whoops," she said. "Looks like I just tried something." She pulled back and smirked.

He looked a little dazed, his eyes unfocused. But he raised an eyebrow at her nonetheless, bringing his infamous grin out to play. "You realize what you've done, don't you?"

"Hmm," she said playfully. "I'm not quite sure, really. But it can't be that bad, can it?"

"You're in over your head, Casey McDonald," he assured her with a smirk, his expression darkening with promise. He tightened his hold on her hips. "I'm not sure you can handle this."

She grinned widely, his expression mirrored in hers. "Bring it on, Derek Venturi."

00

"Okay, I'm getting worried."

"They're probably fine," Sam insisted.

"It's been almost an hour. The bartender said that they left right after we did. Maybe something happened?"

"They're probably dancing," Sam said.

"With each other?" Emily asked doubtfully.

Sam shrugged. "Maybe."

Emily laughed, high pitched. "That's crazy." She shook her head. "They have nothing in common."

"Neither do we," he said pointedly. "Em – "

"I'm not talking about this," she said quickly, pushing her way through the crowd. "Oh look! There's Casey's jacket." She pointed to a fainting couch placed outside the restroom. "Casey?" Paying no attention to Sam trailing behind her, she walked quickly over to the small alcove, trying the bathroom door and finding it locked. "Casey? Are you in there?" She knocked on the door rapidly, shifting uncomfortably as she felt Sam's presence join her in the small space.

Pressing her ear to the door, she heard faint rustling, and then Casey's muffled voice. "Emily?"

"Case? Are you okay?"

"I – I'm fine. Hold on!"

Emily jumped back as the door swung open and Casey popped out quickly, shutting the door firmly behind her. Her clothes were rumpled – her shirt riding up to reveal her midriff, and her skirt pulled sideways on her hips. Her curled hair had lost most of its height, falling flat in limp, messy ringlets around her face. "Emily, Sam!" she said breathlessly. "Uh…what's up?"

Emily just stared at her incredulously. "Nothing much. Anything…_up_ in there?"

She snorted. "No, no. I was just – " she swallowed, pointing vaguely behind her. "Uh, you know…getting sick."

"Uh huh. Was someone holding your hair back?" Emily smirked.

Casey laughed nervously. "Uh, nope. Just me and too many martinis. I think I'm just gonna head home now, I'm feeling just horrible." She perked up, eyes darting around. "Hey, isn't that Akon? You love him, right, you should go dance," she said quickly, shooing Emily out of the alcove.

"Oh, but if you're sick, I think I should walk you home," Emily simpered. "And you can tell me all about your _horrible_ bathroom adventures."

"Oh, I'd rather not." Casey's eyes widened as she caught sight of Derek sneaking out of the bathroom over Emily's shoulder. "Actually," she said quickly, catching Emily's shoulder before she turned back around. "I think I do wanna walk home. Let's go, uh, right now." Derek paused, shooting her a quizzical look. She shrugged in response.

Sam, standing off to the side, looked between Derek and Casey and rolled his eyes. "Yeah, Em, you should take Casey home," he said. "And I'll go look for Derek. Oh, Derek!" He turned around, deadpanning surprise. "There you are."

Derek jumped slightly, catching sight of Sam for the first time. "Oh. Uh, hi, Sam."

"Derek?" Emily turned around, a bright smile blooming onto her face. "Where did you come from?"

"Yeah," Sam said. "Where did you come from, Derek?" He smiled innocently.

Derek chuckled, shrugging. "Oh, here and there," he said weakly.

"Well, now that we're all here, we can catch a cab together," Emily said brightly. "Unless you want to catch a ride with Bathroom Man, Casey," she finished slyly.

"Uh, that's okay. I'd rather walk."

"Oh, but I think we should check the bathroom first, don't you think? He must be getting pretty bored in there. Maybe we should reassure him."

Derek looked up from patting his pockets absentmindedly. "Uh, yeah, I'll do it, Case. Wouldn't want him to think you left him high and dry." He smirked, trying to recapture a cocky attitude.

"Lose something, Derek?" Sam said, raising an eyebrow. "Maybe you should check the bathroom while you're in there."

"Shut up, man."

Emily frowned, opening her mouth, but Casey hurried her away. "Let's walk, Em. It's such a great night, don't you think?"

Derek jiggled his leg nervously as Casey pulled Emily away, avoiding Sam's knowing expression.

"So," Sam said after a few moments. "You got something to tell me?"

"Nope," Derek said breezily. "But excuse me while I go get my wallet." He saluted and disappeared into the bathroom.

00

"I cannot believe you hooked up with someone. You're so lucky! Was he cute?" Emily chirped excitedly, pulling Casey down the sidewalk briskly.

"Uh – "

"God, you get all the good stuff. A bathroom, Casey! That's so out of character for you. You didn't clean it beforehand, did you?"

"Um, no."

"Good. God, that's so romantic."

"Romantic?" Casey stumbled, trying to keep up with Emily.

"Yeah," Emily said dreamily. "You know, a mysterious stranger, a sexy rendezvous. So what'd he look like?"

"Oh…" Casey shrugged. "He looked…uh, normal."

"Normal." She nodded. "Sounds…great." She nudged Casey teasingly. "Well at least you had a good night."

Casey, caught in a permanent blush, jumped at the chance for a subject change. "You didn't have a good time?"

Emily shrugged. "I really wanted to dance with Derek," she confessed. "He's exactly the same as he was in high school, isn't he?"

Casey raised an eyebrow skeptically, her mind instantly flashing to the dance floor. "Uh, I don't think he's the same exactly."

"No, no, he's much more mature now." Emily grinned. "And much more developed."

Casey laughed weakly. "Tell me about it."

"What?" 

"Um, nothing." Casey bit her lip. "Em, please tell me you don't still have a crush on him."

"Not a crush, exactly. More like wishful thinking." Emily smirked. "He'd be perfect for a light, breezy fling, don't you think? Plus, how cool would it be to dump _him_ after how he dumped me in high school?"

"Emily, I'm not sure that's a good idea – " Casey cut herself off. "Uh, Em? Did something happen with Sam?"

Emily choked on air. "What? No!"

Casey eyed the shorter woman warily. "Uh, Emily – "

"Why would think that? My goal for tonight was Derek, not Sam. Sam's – Sam is – " Emily sputtered. "Please. Yeah freaking right."

"Uh, sure. Nothing happened with Sam, okay," Casey said skeptically.

"Nothing did," Emily insisted. She shook her head and launched into another nervous ramble. "Wasn't Derek cute tonight? I love him in green, it compliments him very well."

"Emily – "

"Do you think he hooked up with someone? He was missing as long as you were, maybe he found somebody to have his own bathroom adventure with."

"Emily," Casey tried again, stamping down on her impatience. "I really think – "

"Maybe I can ask him out for coffee or something. Do you think he'd go for that, or is that too pushy?"

"Emily, just stop!" Casey exclaimed. Emily stopped talking, surprised into silence. Already jittery and high on adrenaline, Casey let her mouth spin out of control. "Just…just stop talking about Derek, okay? He hasn't seen you in four years, and as his roommate? I'm telling you he hasn't thought about you _once_ since high school." Casey shook her head grimly. "And I can also tell you that you weren't who he was thinking about tonight, either."

Emily snapped her mouth shut, her face growing cold. "That's a little harsh, don't you think?"

"No, I really don't," Casey snapped. "Every other sentence is about Derek – that's how it's always been! Since we were _fifteen_, Emily! You need to get over it already!" Casey vaguely registered that her hands were shaking, and that they'd both stopped walking and were standing still in the middle of the sidewalk. "He doesn't care about you. He never did, and you need to move the hell on and find someone who actually has the capacity to care about you back." Casey's voice threatened to break and she shut her mouth audibly, knowing that she was on the verge of pleading or crying or something equally bad.

Emily was silent for a very long moment, staring at Casey with an expression that she'd never seen before. "Fine," she finally said quietly. "I guess you know everything, huh?"

Casey said nothing, just looked at her old friend, breathing hard.

"I guess I'll just go home and start working on 'moving the hell on.'" Emily shot Casey a cold glance and brushed past her, heading in the opposite direction.

Casey sighed, closing her eyes tiredly. Turning away from her friend's rapidly departing figure, she reached into her purse and pulled out her cell phone with trembling hands. Dialing a familiar number, she folded her arm across her midriff protectively as she listened to it ring.

"Derek? It's me. Where can I meet you?"

00

Okay, so there wasn't as much _hot_ as there was _droppin'_, but I hope you guys liked it anyway. I love every review I get, and I wanna thank you all for stickin' around this long. Can you believe this started out as a one-shot? Yeah, no kidding. This mother is out of control.


	12. Part Twelve

Okay, so you noticed I changed the rating. I originally had some racy scenes written out for this chapter and future installments as well, but for several different reasons I decided to cut them out and drop the story back down to 'T'. All the reasons, I'm sure, are much more boring than the actual story, so I'll refrain from listing them and just hope you like the rest of this crazy thing anyway.

00

Part Twelve

00

Casey sighed, leaning her head back against the brick wall tiredly. She closed her eyes against the harsh light of the street lamps, the ache in her head slowly building. She shrunk back against the wall, crossing her arms over her chest protectively. Somewhere in her mind she was feeling guilty about yelling at Emily, but she couldn't register much of anything beyond the basic sensory thoughts at the moment.

She perked up as the door next to her opened, and she turned her head to see Derek slipping outside, her jacket in tow. "Hey."

"Hey, yourself. Couldn't find your coat."

Casey raised her chin, shooting him a skeptical look. "Did you look?"

"Yes," he replied defensively. "It's those clubbers, Case. They're like piranhas. Leave something marginally expensive within their reach and it'll vanish before you can blink."

"They stole my coat?" Casey pouted. "But I'm cold."

"Why did you leave without your coat in the first place?" he asked.

"Uh, maybe because I was busy trying to keep Emily and Sam from finding out about our little grope-fest in the bathroom."

"Grope-fest?" he repeated. He tilted his head back, closing his eyes. "Oh God, I love it when you talk dirty to me."

She huffed and tilted her head, looking up at him through her eyelashes. "Can I wear your jacket?"

He scoffed. "No one but me wears the jacket."

"Please?" She stuck out her bottom lip, giving an exaggerated shiver. "Be a gentleman, Derek."

He smirked. "What will you give me for it?"

She narrowed her eyes. "The time of day?"

He gave a peal of mock laughter, but nonetheless slipped out of the coat and slid it around her shoulders. "You should revel in this moment. Not many women get this privilege. This jacket is a symbol of honor."

She suppressed a snort, slipping her arms into the sleeves. "Oh yeah, I can feel the honor shining through beneath the grime," she quipped, poking the tip of her tongue out through her teeth as she smiled.

"You're disrespecting the symbol," he said, shaking a finger at her. She shook her head, burrowing into the folds of the coat, her face suddenly falling. Sensing her change in mood, he sighed, bumping her shoulder with his own. "So what happened?"

"With Emily?" She shrugged. "I yelled at her."

"Ah." He raised his eyebrows. "I'm guessing there's more to that story."

She shook her head. "Let's just get outta here, okay?"

He shrugged, placing one hand on her back and leading her down the sidewalk. "Where to? Home?"

"Oh, I'd say yes, but I don't think we could get away with going back to Toronto tonight," she said cheekily, leaning into his body.

He smiled. "I meant our _old house_," he clarified. "We could…play some Candyland with Marti, vacuum the living room, maybe help your mom with the dishes. Make a real _fun_ night of it," he said sarcastically.

"Sounds oh so tempting, but I'll pass." She adjusted the jacket on her thin frame. "Let's just…take a cab somewhere random. Go somewhere we've never been before."

"Somewhere we've never been? In London, Ontario?" he asked skeptically. "The only place we've never been here is that sleazy strip joint on the edge of town. Well," he amended, "the only place you've never been."

Casey smiled wanly. "It's so cute when you attempt humor, Derek. Like they'd let you near strippers." She tried to smirk, but it came off half-hearted.

He shrugged, making a face. "Hey." He slipped his arm around her shoulders, moving in closer. "Seriously, what happened?"

"I don't know." She bit her lip, stepping into him and tucking her head beneath his chin. "I just wanna go somewhere…else."

"Somewhere else, we can do." He kept his hand on her back while raising his other one, hailing a taxi. "Try to contain your excitement."

Casey didn't reply, merely suppressed a small smile and burrowed deeper into Derek's chest.

00

Nora collapsed on the couch with a sigh. Chores were done, Marti was in bed, Lizzie preoccupied with homework (and not occupied with Jake) and Edwin's window firmly locked and his cell phone confiscated until the morning (just to be on the safe side). She allowed herself a small smile at the thought that she had nothing to do until morning.

Her eyes then fell on the coffee table, spotting Derek's car keys laying on the surface and her face fell. Well, nothing to do but obsess, anyway.

She shot a look at her husband, bent over and concentrating intensely on a pile of files at the dining room table. She debated with herself, shaking her head. "Georgie?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you…" she trailed off, face scrunched. "Nah, never mind."

"Hmm."

"Well," she backtracked. "You don't think…" she laughed. "No, no. It's ridiculous, right?"

"Mmhmm."

"Then again," she said again. "They do seem awfully…" she trailed off, lost for words. "I don't even want to _think_ it!"

"Mmm."

"But I drilled her for like, twenty minutes, and she barely blinked an eye – and she wasn't lying, she is _not_ that good at lying."

"Hmm."

"No, of course. I don't know what I was thinking." She shot a look at George, who was still absorbed in his paperwork. "George! Are you listening to me?"

"Hmm?" He snapped his head up. "Uh, of course I am." Nora shot him a look. "Fine, I wasn't, I'm sorry honey. It's this case…"

Nora cut him off, rising from the couch and joining him at the table. "Okay, okay, call me crazy. Please, please, tell me I'm crazy."

He raised an eyebrow. "You're crazy," he said obligingly. "Why are you crazy?"

"Casey. And Derek. Casey and Derek."

"Yeah, what else is new?" He grinned, bringing one hand up to rub the bridge of his nose.

"This is," she said, making a face. "Um…I think…I mean, I've noticed a few things, and…you don't think Casey and Derek are, uh…closer than usual, do you?"

George looked up. "Huh?"

Nora huffed. "You kno-ow…"

"I do?" George frowned.

She swatted his shoulder, sighing in exasperation. "I think they're _dating_, George."

He choked and fell silent. "Dating?" George blinked, leaned back in his chair, took a deep breath, and burst out laughing.

"Georgie!"

He kept chortling, shaking his head and gasping for air. "Derek and…" he looked at his wife again, and burst into another spasm of laughter.

"George," Nora said in her dangerous voice. "It is not _that_ funny."

George forcibly calmed himself down, shaking his head. "C'mon, Nora, it's…Derek and Casey."

"I know," she claimed. "I just – I've been getting a vibe, you know?"

"A vibe," he repeated.

"Yes. And I caught them together in the kitchen during her party."

"Caught them doing…what?" he asked, eyebrow raised.

She faltered. "Talking. But it was super intense," she insisted, less forceful now that she was saying it out loud. "And they were standing, heh, _really_ close."

George squinted at her. "They were…standing really close?"

"Uch. Well it all sounds stupid now," she said, deflating. "But something's going on, I just know it. I know my daughter."

"Okay, okay, but it might not be what you think," he reasoned. "I mean, they live in a different city, they're on their own – Derek's only got a semester left, and Casey graduates in the spring – they've got a lot on their plates. And yeah, they don't fight as much – well, as…" he winced, "loudly, but that doesn't mean they're dating. Maybe they're – God forbid - _maturing_."

"Yeah…" Nora grimaced. "Maybe you're right."

"Maybe." George grinned. "You didn't say anything to them, did you?"

"Not directly." She smirked. "I did freak the heck outta Derek, though."

He chuckled and opened his mouth to reply, only to have his answer die in his throat at the sight of Casey rushing through the front door, making a bee line for the living room. Her hair was mussed, clothes disheveled, and – George's brain stopped functioning momentarily – wearing Derek's leather jacket. "Casey?"

She turned around, a nervous smile on her face. "Hey guys," she chirped. "Came back to get the car. Have you seen the keys?"

"Coffee table," Nora said faintly.

Casey smiled in thanks, turning her back on them to grab the keychain off the table. "Thanks, see you later."

"Uh, uh, wait – where are you going? I thought you were dancing with Emily and Sam?" Nora questioned, swiveling around in her chair.

"Oh, we did," Casey replied, pausing at the door. "Got bored, and now we're gonna go get something to eat. I just came in real quick to get the keys, which I have, and now I gotta go."

"Well – " Nora stalled. "Are you…okay to drive?"

"Mom," Casey said exasperatedly.

"All right, all right, fine."

"I gotta go – "

Nora laughed, wincing when it came out forced. "Okay, go, go, have fun."

Casey smiled tensely. "See ya." She left with a small wave, closing the door firmly behind her.

Silence reigned for several long moments before Nora took a deep breath. "She's wearing…his…_jacket_."

George struggled for words. "Uh, maybe it doesn't mean anything. Maybe she's just…cold?"

Their eyes met over the table, and in unison they slumped back in their chairs. "Oh no."

00

"This is not somewhere else."

Derek shrugged. "What? You said you were hungry. I'm feeding you."

"Feeding me at the diner that we spent every weekend night at for the last two years of high school," she said pointedly. "I could map this place out with my eyes closed."

"Oh, nuh-uh," he said. "They have a karaoke night now."

Casey laughed. "A CD player and a huge box to stand on does not a karaoke night make."

"I wonder if tonight is karaoke night," Derek teased.

"Oh please no."

"Will you sing me a song if I ask nicely?"

"Will you?" Casey shot back.

"Sure I will," he said. "I'm feeling very Right Said Fred tonight. Maybe a little Prince, too."

"If you have any respect for me whatsoever, you will not subject me to your singing voice."

Derek pulled a mock hurt face at her. "You just don't know what romance is. That's okay. I can teach you."

Casey snorted, withholding her reply at the sight of a teenaged kid wearing an apron and holding a pad. "Welcome to Smelly Nelly's, how many in your party?"

"Uh, three," Casey replied. "There's us, plus the Venturi ego. It'll need a booster seat."

"Oh, funny," Derek said. He turned to the waiter, slipping his arm around her shoulders. "Isn't it adorable? She's trying to insult me."

"Venturi?" The waiter did a double take. "As in Derek Venturi?"

Casey groaned. "Oh God."

"Yeah," Derek replied.

"Man, you're a _legend_. You won MVP three years in a row!"

Derek smiled smugly, turning to Casey. "I'm a legend," he informed her. She gave a pained smile and knocked away the hand slowly moving down her back.

"Coach Henderson _still_ makes us watch the tape of the game against St. Mary's." The guy bounced on his heels, obviously excited. "The whole thing was inspired."

"Oh yeah," Derek replied. "I remember that. Best game I ever played – I still have the jersey. In my, uh, trophy room." Casey raised an eyebrow at him.

"Man, that – that's awesome." The waiter grinned. "Here, I'll get you a table in the back – away from the karaoke." He grabbed a couple menus. "Trust me, you wanna be far away from that thing."

Derek nodded, keeping his hand on the small of Casey's back as they followed him through the restaurant. Casey looked up at him, smirking. "You don't remember anything about that game, do you?"

"I remember it…vaguely," he replied.

"As in not at all?"

"Hey, which one of us just got recognized?"

Casey snorted, holding off her reply as the waiter brought them to a table, secluded from the rest of the restaurant. "Lemme know if you need anything," the kid said. "Lucy's your waitress; she'll be here in a second."

"Thanks," Casey said, smiling.

"Have a nice dinner," the waiter said, falling back on training. Then he looked at Casey and winked. "And a pleasant evening." He grinned and walked away, throwing another enthusiastic wave at Derek.

Casey froze, shuddering. "He winked at me."

Derek laughed. "I saw that."

"Ew."

"Well, he's cute," he jeered. "A little short, but maybe you could get him a pair of platform shoes or something."

"Cute and kinda illegal, I'm sure," she replied.

"Love doesn't follow the rules," he declared dramatically.

"Derek?"

"Yeah?"

"Shut up."

He sat back sheepishly, grabbing a napkin and tossing it in her face. "This is the star MVP you're talking to here. Three years in a row, baby."

"Oh, and what exactly does MVP stand for?" Casey asked, quirking an eyebrow. "Mostly…Very Pathetic?"

He scoffed. "Magnificent, Victorious and…Pleasant."

She laughed. "Yeah, real nice." He threw another napkin at her and she giggled, hiding behind her menu. "Oh, don't start that with me. I could kick your ass."

"You could try." He grabbed a sugar packet and tossed it lightly, chortling when it soared over her menu-shield and hit her on the chin.

"I'm ignoring you." She lowered her menu primly and focused intensely on the list of appetizers.

"You won't last," he boasted.

"Hmm, the uh, 'spirit cookies' sound delicious," she said, valiantly keeping a straight face as another sugar package smacked her in the cheek. "Oh my God, look Derek! 'Maple Leaf Pancakes'!"

Derek squinted, balancing a packet on a spoon. "Huh?" He aimed and fired, laughing when it bounced off her head. "Oh, score. That's gotta be twenty points, right there."

She looked up at him disdainfully. "Are you finished?"

"How many points is it if I land one in your cleavage?"

Her mouth dropped open and she flipped the menu forward to cover the aforementioned end zone. "Uh, that would be the out of bounds area, Venturi."

He pouted, flicking a hand and sending a packet across the table to land in her lap. "You always rain on my parade. Seriously, what's up with that?"

"What are you, three?" She tilted her head mockingly. "Do you need a booster seat?"

"But Casey, that's my ego's spot, remember?"

She made a face at him, cutting off her reply as the waitress arrived with a pitcher of water. "Evening, folks, my name's Lucy, I'll be your server tonight. Can I get you something to drink?"

"Yeah, she'll take the, uh, Sugar Blaster Shake," Derek jumped in. "Cuz she just _loooves_ unhealthy foods."

Casey quirked her mouth, eyes narrowing. "And he'll have some milk." She looked up and smirked. "Skim." He winced comically, leaning back in his chair.

The waitress raised her eyebrows, jotting the drinks down and stepped back from the table. "I'll uh, be right back with those."

Casey met Derek's gaze after she walked away. "What, no more Target Casey?"

He shrugged. "I'm conceding defeat. Being the bigger man and all that."

"Or you ran out of sugar sachets."

"That too." She narrowed her eyes at him, ducking behind her menu again. "So…what happened with Emily?" He leaned forward, grinning.

She peeked over the cardboard. "Excuse me?"

"Emily. Short, bouncy, shrill. You remember."

"Oh, oh, I remember," Casey replied. "What I'm not quite sure I'm hearing is…you, expressing…concern?" She pulled a mock shocked expression.

"I'm concerned," he said. "I am very concerned about lots of things involving you. Just last week, I was terribly concerned that if you nagged me about my mother's birthday one more time I would've been forced to do some serious bodily damage."

She shot him a scornful look. "You always forget your mother's birthday."

"Yeah well, she always forgets mine." She snorted and he wagged a finger at her. "But you're digressing."

"Ooh, big word."

"What'd you fight about?"

Casey sighed, looking away. "What did Emily and I fight about? Well. _She_ said that your best asset was your hair, and _I_ disagreed, saying that it was your roguish charm. It was quite the heated argument."

He sighed mournfully. "Man, Casey. You have got to stop obsessing over me. I really think it's hurting your social life."

Casey looked around wildly. "Oh my God, Derek! Your ego got away!"

"Ha ha." He scowled. "You're avoiding."

"Am not."

"Are too." He held up hand to stop her comeback. "Ah ah ah. No."

She sighed huffily. "Fine. We just got into a fight. No big deal, okay?"

"Fight about what?" Derek folded his hands on the table, peering at her.

She shrugged, looking down at her hands. "I just…got fed up. She just wouldn't stop talking," she said in frustration. Derek snorted a laugh. "Hush."

"So you told her to shut up?"

"In so many words. Yes." She let out a breath, eyeing across the table. "Happy now?"

"Kinda." He smirked. "Are you?"

She hesitated, biting her lip. "Well. Not really."

"Ah." His smirk turned into a genuine smile, and something airy and funny happened to her stomach. "Maybe we should work on that."

"Maybe." She cast her eyes back down to her menu shyly, taking a deep breath. After a moment she lifted her chin slightly, snorting in disbelief. "Oh God. Derek, they have an 'Oiler Omelet.'"

Derek muffled a laugh, looking downwards briefly before raising his eyes back to hers. "Let's leave."

"Yeah, okay."

00

"Shh. Sh – shh!"

"Okay, okay."

Casey peered through the small window into the foyer of the house, squinting to try and see through the darkness. "I can't see anything."

"Maybe cuz it's dark, genius."

She scowled, making a violent 'shush' gesture with her hands. She opened the front door slowly, wincing as the hinges squeaked. She made a face, gesturing to Derek behind her. "C'mon."

She walked delicately up the stairs, trying to avoid making any noise whatsoever. On the second step she stopped at the sound of a 'clump,' and turned around to glare at Derek, who shrugged unapologetically.

She poked his shoulder and he made a placating gesture with his hands, stepping up on the stairs, placing his hands on her waist. She tip-toed the rest of the way up the stairs, rolling her eyes as she heard Derek's heavy steps behind her.

She made her way down the hallway, trying to ignore Derek's hands. "Stop it."

"Stop what?" He stepped up against her back, nuzzling his nose behind her ear. "Stop this?" His hands trailed up her sides, ending at the back of her neck, fingers tangling in her hair.

"Um, yeah. Th – that." He attached his mouth to her neck, chuckling as she sagged against him. "Derek!" she hissed. "We're gonna wake everyone up."

"Who?" he mumbled. His hands crept beneath her shirt and her knees buckled, sending both of them crashing against the wall. "Oof. Watch it, Case."

She pulled away, gasping. "Cut it out."

"I'm not doing anything." He leaned against the wall, his gaze dark and intense.

She blushed, moving away. "Room. Now."

He smirked, grabbing at her wrist and bringing it to his mouth to kiss the pulse point. She watched his face, biting her lip. "Okay fine, let's go to bed." Her blush multiplied and he laughed. "I meant the boring kind of bed, not the fun kind of bed."

She looked down at the floor, biting her lip. "Right."

He tilted his head, stepping in closer and grabbing her other hand, entwining their fingers. "Hey."

"Hmm?"

He smiled and leaned in. "You're beautiful."

Casey snapped her head up. "What? Why would you say that?"

"Well you needed to hear it, right?"

She bit her lip, taking a deep breath. Reaching up and wrapping her arms around his neck, she pulled him into a kiss, as unrestrained as the one back in the club.

It wasn't until a 'thump' sounded from the vicinity of Edwin's room that they broke apart, breathing heavily. Derek regained his senses first, stepping back and grabbing Casey's wrist and pulling her down the hall to the bedroom.

"Did we wake up Edwin and Lizzie?" Casey's voice was urgent and hushed.

"Who cares?" Derek swung Casey in towards his body by her wrist in one swift movement before kicking the door to the guest bedroom shut behind him.

A full five minutes passed before the door to the game closet slowly opened, and a pale-faced Edwin and Lizzie poked their heads out into the hallway.

"I _knew_ it," Edwin whispered triumphantly, turning to Lizzie for a high five. She ignored him.

"Is it possible to burn out your own retinas?"

Edwin smirked. "Do you think they know that room doesn't lock?"

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	13. Part Thirteen

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Part Thirteen

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"Do you think we should wake them up?" Lizzie bit her lip, shifting her weight on the bed nervously.

Edwin raised his eyebrows. "If you want to be the one brave enough to venture into that bedroom, go ahead."

Lizzie shuddered. "God no. You do it."

"Uh, hi. I'm _not_ doing it."

"Oh come on, my bedroom is closer to theirs' than yours!"

Edwin gave her a weird look. "So?"

"So you didn't have to deal with the…" Lizzie shivered in disgust, "sounds."

He rolled his eyes. "Please, there were no sounds."

"Oh there were sounds," Lizzie insisted. "My subconscious will never be the same."

"Lizzie, you're imagining it." Edwin leaned his head back against the headboard, barely looking up from his binder. "There were no sounds. No banging, no moaning, not even any name calling," he said in a repeated monotone.

"Ew." Lizzie scrunched up her face, throwing another look out into the hallway. "It's almost noon."

"I know."

"My mom will want to get them up soon."

"I _kno_ – ow," Edwin repeated in a sing song.

"So why aren't you freaking?"

Edwin shrugged. "Liz, we don't even know they did anything."

"Uh, were you not seeing what I was seeing last night?"

He snorted. "That doesn't mean they had…" he trailed off at Lizzie's faint sound of disgust. "…fun."

"I can't believe you're not more upset over this." Lizzie eyed him incredulously. "It's Derek and Casey…"

"So?"

Lizzie smacked him. "Stop that."

"What?"

"You know! I hate that stupid…popular guy, apathetic thing. Just because Derek does it doesn't mean it makes you cool."

Edwin frowned. "Hey." He floundered for a response. "I am not…apathetic."

Lizzie folded her arms stubbornly. "Edwin, come on."

He flung his hands up. "What? It's not that big of a deal." He scribbled something down on the binder mindlessly. "So they're together now. It's not like they haven't been in denial about it long enough." Lizzie was silent, looking at Edwin as if he'd just declared his allegiance to Satan. "What? I have a whole folder of observations dedicated to it."

Lizzie snorted, shaking her head. "You frighten me."

He smirked. "Look, if you're worried that Nora will make a scene, just go wake them up."

Lizzie jumped up, wiping her palms on her thighs. "Okay. Okay, come with me."

"Uch. Why?" Edwin whined.

"Uh, I would like some backup, if you please." She glared at him pointedly.

Edwin huffed, throwing his binder aside. "Fine. But you're going in first."

Lizzie rolled her eyes, but nevertheless exited Edwin's room first, approaching the guest bedroom door slowly. She eyed it cautiously, frowning when Edwin nudged her. "Ugh."

"Stop being such a baby," he hissed.

"I'm not being a baby!"

"You are – "

"I am not, shut up!"

"You shut up – "

"No you – " Lizzie turned away, huffing. "Fine, fine. Okay!" She cut off the whispered conversation, moving to the door determinedly, Edwin sticking close behind her.

She raised her hand to knock, taking a deep breath and throwing a look over her shoulder at Edwin, who raised his eyebrows at her. She took a tiny step forward, bit her lip and –

"What are you guys doing?"

Both teenagers jumped in shock, whirling around. "Marti!" Lizzie exclaimed. "Uh…"

The smallest Venturi was standing in the hallway a little ways down, dressed in an old ballet costume three sizes too small and bouncing a spaghetti strainer against her hand. "Are you guys looking for Derek?" Marti tilted her head. "He's asleep," she informed them.

"Yeah, we know," Lizzie replied. "We, uh, just wanted to wake him up in time for lunch."

Marti rolled her eyes. "Well you're not gonna do it by knocking," she said bluntly, looking at both of them strangely. "He sleeps like a log. Besides, he told me he was up late last night."

Edwin and Lizzie stopped, throwing a look at each other. "You talked to him?" Edwin asked.

Marti shrugged, twirling the strainer around her wrist. "Yup. This morning."

"Where?" Lizzie asked.

"In the kitchen." Marti inclined her head. "You know, during breakfast?"

"He was at breakfast?" Lizzie looked back at Edwin. "Oh. Well…"

"Besides, Casey will get him up." Marti looked at her older stepsister plainly. "You should leave them alone."

Both stood there, mouths gaping, as the girl sauntered past them towards the stairs. "Uh, Marti," Edwin said, clearing his throat. "What's…the strainer for?"

Marti stopped and rolled her eyes at him. "The goblins," she said snippily. "_Duh_." She then turned on her heel and skipped downstairs.

Lizzie turned to look at Edwin silently, who raised his hands in a fruitless gesture. "Don't look at me. I have no idea where she gets it."

Lizzie huffed. "Okay, so he was at breakfast, so what? He probably just came down to get some sustenance from his long night of _sin_."

"Sin?" Edwin chortled. "Liz…"

"What?" She shook her head. "It doesn't change the fact that they're in there doing who knows what, and my mom will be up here soon."

"Okay, you're freaking out."

"No!" She sighed at his look. "Fine. Maybe a little, but it's weird, and well – just help me, okay? We need to make sure they're…decent."

Edwin crossed his arms, shaking his head. "Whatever. Let's just get this over with."

"Thank you." She took a breath, turning back to the door and knocked before she could lose her nerve. Bouncing on her heels, she leaned in. "Derek? Case?" She knocked again, and this time heard a faint rustle from the other side of the door.

Lizzie knocked a final time, and then stepped back when the door opened a crack. A rumpled Casey appeared, blinking groggily and dressed in wrinkled sleepwear. "Uh, hi." She darted her eyes around nervously. "What's up?"

"Hey." Lizzie swallowed, shifting her weight nervously, trying not to make it obvious that she was trying to peek behind her sister into the dark room. "Uh, Mom's making lunch now, and…I just…wanted to know what you were…doing." From behind her Edwin rolled his eyes.

"Oh, sleeping in." Casey laughed uncomfortably, crossing her arms. "We went to a club last night, we were out pretty late."

"We noticed," Lizzie replied dryly. "Is Derek in there?" Lizzie asked. Casey stopped laughing at this, her face scrunching up.

"Somebody asking for me?" Derek appeared behind Casey, wearing sweatpants and nothing else. "Uh, hey guys."

Lizzie's eyes bugged out, and she opened her mouth, though nothing more than an unintelligible squeak emerged. "Hey bro," Edwin said in a monotone, rolling his eyes again.

"Mom's making lunch," Casey said tightly, turning to look at Derek. Her cheeks were slowly reddening. "We should probably get dressed."

"You look a little flushed, Case," he replied, leaning against the doorframe. "You okay?" She shot him a look that could kill. Edwin snorted and Derek smirked at his little brother, instantly melting his expression into innocence when Casey whirled around to glare at him again. "Well, that's a good point you make, Liz. I think I'm gonna go take a shower." He grinned and patted her on the head, ignoring her stuttering to move past her to go down towards the bathroom.

Lizzie huffed, turning to look at her sister sourly. "Casey – "

"Oh, is that Mom calling?" Casey jumped in, interrupting. "I think she is. You better go."

Lizzie's jaw dropped. "Cas – _ey_!"

"C'mon." Edwin grabbed Liz's arm, dragging her down the hall to the stairs. "Hope you had a nice, uh, night, Case," he said, smothering laughs, still dragging Lizzie away.

Casey smiled weakly, waving at him with one hand and covering her face with the other.

Lizzie wrenched her arm away when they reached the landing, glaring at Edwin. "What the hell?" She smacked him in annoyance.

"Give it a rest, Liz."

"Why?" she demanded.

"Because you're freaking out for nothing," he said, grabbing her shoulders. "She's an adult."

Lizzie snorted derisively. "She's my sister."

"She's my _step_sister," Edwin replied. "And Derek's my brother. And if you hadn't _noticed_, they make each other happy." Edwin hesitated, thinking over his previous statement. "Well – kind of. Happy–ish. In a very strange, snarky sort of way."

Lizzie crossed her arms, looking away. "Well…"

Edwin sighed. "Look. It's not a bad thing, okay?" He stepped closer. "Okay?"

She bit her lip, shuffling her feet as she hesitated. "Did you really switch out Jake's textbook?" she blurted out.

Edwin took a step back, raising his eyebrows. "Uh…" he laughed a little nervously. "How do you know about that?"

She shrugged. "I stole your binder again."

He scowled. "Thanks a lot."

"It was hilarious." She giggled slightly. "He opened it up right in front of Mrs. Hein, and she gave him detention for a month."

Edwin smirked. "I knew that Playboy anthology would come in use at some point."

Lizzie shook her head, tapping her foot. "Okay, so maybe them being together isn't that huge of a disaster," she said quickly, words tumbling out of her in a rush. "I wouldn't be opposed to helping them sneak around Mom and George."

Edwin paused for a moment, frowning. "So we're talking about Derek and Casey again?"

Lizzie shrugged. "I'll keep my Mom downstairs; you keep a look out for your dad." She smiled and jumped down the last few remaining stairs, taking off toward the kitchen. Then, before Edwin could blink, she jogged back and threw her arms around his neck, making him stagger backwards in surprise. Just as quickly, she turned around and ran off again, not once looking him in the eye.

Edwin blinked stupidly, shaking his head in exasperation. "Girls."

00

Casey slammed her way into the bathroom, her hair in a messy halo around her head. Glaring, she whacked Derek on the back of the head, causing him to nearly choke on his toothbrush. "I cannot believe you left me alone out there."

Frowning, he spat a mouthful of toothpaste into the sink. "Yeah, cuz standing right next to you half-naked was making things much better."

Casey leaned against the counter next to him, her lips turned down into a pout. "It's the principle of the thing."

Derek shook his head, momentarily silent while he rinsed out his mouth. Spitting the water out into the sink, he chuckled. "Well next time I guess I'll just go right down with you, babe."

"Hmmph." Casey jutted out her hip. "They want us down there."

"I was gonna take a shower." Derek hooked his hands in the waistband of her sweatpants, pulling her closer. "Don't you want me to be clean?"

"Well, considering how often you partake in personal hygiene, that's probably a good idea," Casey snarked.

"You could join me," Derek offered.

Casey snorted. "Yeah, right."

"C'mon." He linked his hands behind her back, swinging her back and forth playfully. "Please?"

"Derek," she protested weakly. "Everyone's downstairs waiting for us."

"Isn't that part of the fun?" he asked, lowering his head to her neck. "Plus, I think it'd be only polite to shower before seeing your family, especially after partaking in so many dirty activities the night before."

Casey flushed, heat sparking beneath her skin and pooling in her stomach. "My mom's already suspicious of us," she pointed out.

"So what?" he murmured, his voice reverberating through her skin.

"Um…well – I think we should start, you know, being more…discreet…" she sighed, unable to string her thoughts together coherently. "Ohhh…uh, yeah…I think."

"I can be discreet," Derek said, pulling her towards the shower stall. "In fact, I bet that no one in the entire house will know that I have my very responsive stepsister with me in the shower."

"Wouldn't this defeat the purpose of a shower, then?" Casey asked.

He flipped the knob to ultra-hot, the water creating a sound barrier in the small room. "It doesn't count when in it's in the shower."

"Huh. Just like it doesn't count when you're on an airplane?" she asked innocently.

He shook his finger at her, grinning wickedly. "Now you're thinking."

00

George wasn't entirely sure, but he kind of thought that this was the most awkward family dinner they'd ever had. There was the time when he and Nora had first started dating seriously, when they'd taken everyone out to a fancy restaurant, only to be kicked out twenty minutes later on account of Marti's overly enthusiastic cat noises and Derek's habit of slipping ice cubes down Casey's collar – but even then there'd been fighting to break up the silence.

This dinner, however, had no such mercy. Derek had his chin propped on his hand as he picked at his food listlessly, his mind obviously firmly set on something else. He kept tensing up every once in awhile, as if to rise from his chair, but would throw a glance at Casey and then relax again. Casey herself was dazed and quiet, staring into the space over Lizzie's shoulder. Lizzie and Edwin, on the other hand, were sitting with their chairs pulled together, occasionally whispering but were for the most part quiet. Even Marti was subdued as she sat silently in her seat, slowly winding the abandoned cloth belt to a lost bathrobe around her wrist, having long since abandoned her dinner.

George threw a glance at Nora, who looked almost stricken at the uncharacteristic silence. He knew exactly what she was thinking, and made a quick decision to attempt a conversation before she started to work herself into anxiety. "So Casey, did you have a nice birthday?"

Casey didn't reply. She was clutching her fork tightly, staring off into space with a dazed expression on her face. Lizzie nudged her and she jumped, knocking her dinner roll off her plate and onto the tablecloth. "Huh?"

"Did you have a nice birthday?" Nora clarified.

"Oh." Casey's expression didn't change. "Uh, yeah, it was great."

"Well, good. I'm glad." Nora trailed off uncomfortably, and silence fell once again. George looked around the room incredulously. Was this seriously his family?

His youngest daughter seemed to be thinking the same thing, because she peeked out from underneath the spaghetti strainer adorning her head and threw an accusing look around the table. "You're all aliens," she declared.

This, if nothing else, snapped Derek out of his contemplative silence. "What? How did you know?" he asked dramatically. "Edwin! You gave us away, didn't you?"

Lizzie looked relieved for an excuse to talk. "Traitor! You've been feeding her information!"

Marti giggled, pointing at Casey. "No, it was her. She sent me the transmission last night."

Casey dropped her fork, looking behind her shoulder in an exaggerated motion. "Who, me? That's ridiculous!"

Derek smirked. "They're in on your plot, Smarti." He narrowed his eyes, leaning towards her. "You won't get in the way of my evil plan." He and Lizzie attacked from opposite sides, exploding the little girl in giggles.

The tension effectively erased, Nora smiled at George from across the table. "So," she started. "You guys are going back to Toronto tonight?"

Casey glanced at Derek briefly. "Uh, yeah. Derek's got a final tomorrow afternoon, and I have a study group in the morning."

Derek looked up from his plate. "Yeah, leave it to Case to schedule something at nine am on a Saturday."

Casey narrowed her eyes at him. "Hey Derek, did you know that if you speak with your mouth full then it's twice as likely that the food will fall out?"

"Hey Casey, did you know you've got gravy on your chin?"

Casey's hand automatically flew to her face, and Derek chortled. "Mature."

"Wow, you guys have really matured a lot," Edwin said sarcastically.

"Hey, as long as we don't have to put up with them," Lizzie replied.

"Parker and Tim do," Nora pointed out. "Hey, where are they, anyway?"

"I called her earlier," Casey said. "She mumbled something about ice cream and hung up on me."

Derek snorted. "Score."

Casey stuck her tongue out at him. "That's my friend you're talking about."

"Yeah, and she totally scored."

Edwin cut in over Casey's indignant reply, momentarily pausing in the heavy shoveling of food into his mouth. "Ahm duhn!"

Lizzie raised an eyebrow. "Careful Edwin, you'll overwhelm your feeding trough." Edwin glared at her, chewing heavily.

George sighed. "Go, go." Edwin saluted and bolted from the table, heading upstairs. "What's he in a hurry about?"

Lizzie rolled her eyes, picking at her plate. "Conference call."

George raised his eyebrows. "What?"

"He's planning a major, large-scale attack on Kenny Connors, that guy who always tries to steal his lunch? He's still in the planning stage."

Nora snorted, and George puffed out his chest, grinning. "He gets that from me."

Casey suddenly dropped her silverware with a clatter, blushing to the roots of her hair. "Oh my – " she cut herself off, taking a deep breath.

"Casey?" Nora asked. "Are you all ri – "

"Yes," she said quickly. "Uh, yes. I uh, hit my knee on the – uh, table leg." She looked over at Derek nervously, who smirked down into his plate.

Lizzie snorted. "Aren't you sitting in the middle?"

Casey paused, pushing back her chair. "I'm gonna go, uh, pack." She exited the table quickly, pinching Lizzie on the way.

Derek watched her go, following her across the room. "I better go too," he said after she was gone. "I think Casey wants to get going pretty quick here." He stood, throwing his napkin on the table.

"Oh, you're not going to stay for dinner?" Nora asked.

Derek shrugged, ruffling Marti's hair affectionately. "Nah. Thanks for the spread, Nora." He grinned, giving a salute similar to Edwin's before jogging up the stairs after Casey.

Nora sighed. "They're scattering like flies."

"They're not flies," Marti said, rolling her eyes. "They're _aliens_, remember?"

00

"Call me when you get there," Nora said. "And don't work too hard! You're almost a college graduate, now is the time to relax."

"I know, I know," Casey said, accepting her mother's hug. "I won't, I promise."

"Casey!" Derek called from outside. "Let's motor!"

Casey rolled her eyes. "I'm being summoned." She bent down to kiss Marti on the cheek, giving the strainer a twirl. "Don't turn normal while I'm gone, okay?"

Marti nodded importantly. "I won't."

Casey grinned and turned to hug Lizzie next. "I really am sorry about Jake," she whispered.

"I know, I'm sorry for freaking," Lizzie whispered back. She leaned in closer and lowered her voice even more. "And next time, tell Derek to put a hanger on the bedroom door."

Casey pulled back, eyes wide, before nudging Lizzie playfully. "Sneak."

"Klutz."

She chuckled, grabbing her bag from the ground. "All right, I'm off." She gave George and Edwin a wave, exiting the house to greet Derek, already in the driver's seat of the car. "Took you long enough."

"Sorry, I had to say goodbye to _our_ family." She tossed her backpack in the back seat, moving around to slip into the passenger's seat. "Think you can get this hunk of junk back to TO in one piece?"

Derek smirked. "Don't worry about the junk. It's working fine."

Casey raised a lone eyebrow. "Home, Jeeves."

"Yes, Miss Daisy."

Back at the house, Nora watched them drive off, sighing. Turning to George, she said, "you know, we never did find out…"

"If they are, they'll tell us eventually."

"Yeah, okay. Okay." Nora snorted. "Hey, I'll give you some raspberry pie if you help me clean up after Derek in Edwin's room."

George frowned. "Derek wasn't in Edwin's room, I sent him to the guest room."

Nora paused. "No, _Casey_ was in – " she stopped, face growing pale. "Oh _man_."

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Okay, we're definitely winding down now, and I mean that this time. One more leg of the story, some resolution and voila. Hope you enjoyed it.


	14. Part Fourteen

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Part Fourteen

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"Home sweet home." Casey breezed through the door of their apartment. "Isn't it nice to be alone, finally?"

Derek struggled through the door behind her, weighed down by the luggage. "Uh – yeah – "

"Okay, I think we need to talk." Casey pulled off her jacket, tossing it over the couch, walking briskly into the living room.

"Do we?" Derek dumped the bags by the stairs, wincing as he stretched his back stiffly. "Holy _suitcase_, Batman."

"Derek, I'm trying to have a conversation, here."

"Fine, I'm coming – " Derek pulled off his jacket, collapsing onto the couch next to Casey. "All right, you have a speech, right?"

"What – I don't have a speech," Casey said quickly.

"I saw you taking notes while I was getting gas, Case."

She huffed. "Well – okay." She threw a look to her jacket, realizing the receipt with her talking points on it was in the pocket, then quickly turned back to Derek at his smirk. "Well, I – I think we need some ground rules."

"Ground rules," Derek repeated.

"Yes. This…thing, with, you know, us, is very new, and we shouldn't, uh – "

Derek grabbed her hand. "Case, c'mon."

She took a deep breath. "All right. I think we should take things slow."

"Slow." Derek kissed her wrist, eyes firmly on her face.

"Um." Casey swallowed. "Yes. Slow. Like, you know, spending time together, keeping it fun – "

"We spend time together all the time. We live together."

"I know that, which is why this could get – " Casey faltered as Derek placed another kiss on the back of her hand. "Uh, complicated."

"Complicated how?"

"Complicated, like if we break up or have a fight…" Casey shifted in her seat. "I mean, it'll be like it was in high school."

"Or like it is now?" Derek rose an eyebrow. "Casey, we don't have to be dating to fight."

"Is that what we are? Dating?"

"Well, we spend all our free time together, we fight constantly, we do things for each other when we don't want to – we would've been dating for years now. The only thing we were missing was sex."

Casey rolled her eyes. "Eloquent."

"I thought so." He grinned. "Stop stressing."

"I wasn't stressing!"

"Oh really?" He pulled her closer to him and she swung her legs up into his lap. "I know you were goin' for your notes."

She laughed weakly. "What notes?"

He shook his head. "Can I ask you something?" Derek pushed her hair off her neck, running his knuckles along her jaw line.

"Uh, sure." She swallowed, eyes fluttering closed.

"We live together," he said factually. "We have no other roommates, no nosy neighbors, no annoying landlord. You don't let me bring people over very often, so we're alone most evenings."

Casey shot him a bemused look. "All of this is true."

"Right." He grinned. "So why, exactly, did we wait until we were in the house that our entire family lives in?"

Casey raised her eyebrows contemplatively, seeing his point. "I don't know," she said slowly. "But I'm pretty sure it's your fault."

"My fault?" He shook his head. "No, no. Your fault."

"How is it my fault?" she said incredulously.

"You kept running away from me! I wasn't gearing up to play Euchre with you that night on the couch, you know."

"Uh, I had good reason," she argued.

"I wasn't going to hurt you. Bite you a little, maybe – "

Casey shook her head, a small smile at the corner of her mouth. "Maybe if you'd given me a little more time to adjust before pouncing on me, I wouldn't have had to make you play…_Euchre_…all by yourself."

He raised his eyebrows, laughing. "Don't flatter yourself." He pinched her leg playfully.

"Shut up." She kicked at him. "We still need ground rules."

"Ground rules like what?"

"Well – no more fashion majors, for one."

He pulled back, frowning. "No more fashion majors…giving me wardrobe advice?"

She glared. "That's so not what I meant."

"I didn't think so, but I thought I'd give it a try." He glared at her. "I'm not that much of a jackass, Case."

She flipped her bangs out of her eyes primly, smirking. "I'm just letting you know from the get-go that it'd be a deal breaker. Like a relationship pre-nup."

"We don't need a pre-nup," he grumbled.

"We kinda do." She frowned. "I mean, it's not like if we break up we're never going to see each other again. This is a big deal."

"I know that – "

"So we should take it slow," she said. "Ease into it."

"Ease…into what?" He leaned forward, nose brushing her cheek. "Into this?" He attached his mouth to her ear, hands slipping beneath her shirt.

"I…I'm not done with the ground rules!" Casey said frantically, pulling back. "Cut it out."

"I'm not doing anything," he said innocently.

She cleared her throat, glaring. "You can't pull pranks on me anymore."

"I haven't pulled a prank on you in years," he said indignantly.

"What did you call hiding my clothes all over the house?"

"Okay, I haven't pulled a prank on you in months," he amended. "And for the record, I just wanted to see you wear my clothes."

"Yeah, it was a real sweet way to go about it." She frowned. "Wait – you wanted to see me in your clothes? That's what that was about? Even when you used to do that all the time in – "

"Hey." He cleared his throat quickly. "You were saying – ground rules?"

She eyed him suspiciously, then started ticking things off on her fingers. "You have to be nice to me. As in, all the time, and not just some of the time. You have to take me out on dates – which you will _pay_ for – and you have to be a gentleman. Which means doing things for me without asking."

Derek looked vaguely horrified. "You're insane."

"It's not too much to ask for you to treat me like, oh I dunno, a girlfriend?"

"I am not going to be nice to you _all the time_. How am I supposed to make fun of you?"

"Uh, the point is to not make fun of me, Derek."

He grinned. "Oh."

She glared. "You're doing it right now."

"Doing what? All I said was 'oh.'"

"It was a teasing 'oh.'"

"There is no such thing as a teasing 'oh.' 'Oh' is a word meant to convey no emotion all, Casey, really – which one of us is the writer here?"

She glared at him. "Are you gonna take this seriously, or what?"

"Yes." He smiled as pleasantly as one can when trying to cop a feel.

She batted his hand away impatiently. "You're like a five-year-old."

"I am much cuter than most five-year-olds."

"Only just." She raised an eyebrow. "Let's review. Being nice. No pranks. Dates. You pay."

"You Jane. Me Tarzan."

"No teasing," she said loudly, talking over him. "Be a boyfriend. I know you know how."

"How do you know that?"

She scoffed. "If you don't know, then you'll learn."

Derek was quiet for a minute, before smiling. "Yeah, I like this new bossy thing."

"I wasn't bossy before?"

"Well yeah, now you're just doing it on my lap."

She pushed at his arm. "Do you agree or not?"

"Agree on what?"

"The ground _rules_, De_rek_."

"What? Oh, oh, yeah. Whatever." He nuzzled at her neck, pulling her into his chest. "Dates, being nice, taking it nice and _easy_…" His voice reverberated against her skin, and she shuddered.

She let out a breath, clenching her hands on his shoulders. "Stop…uh…" she trailed off into moan when he slipped his hands into her shirt, skimming them up her ribcage to her breasts.

She tilted her head back and moved into a kiss, her arms wrapping around his neck, one hand threading into his hair. She felt the familiar sensations building in her abdomen and she indulged for a few precious seconds before pulling away abruptly. "What?" he asked, looking put out.

"So you'll take me out on a date tomorrow night, right?" she asked sweetly.

"Uh, okay."

"And you'll pay? And open the car door for me?"

Derek nodded slowly and unsnapped her bra. "Mmhmm."

"No teasing, and – "

"No _talking_."

00

"A date? That's awesome! It's like he's actually your boyfriend!" Parker clapped her hands excitedly.

"I know."

"Where's he taking you?"

Casey leaned back against the picnic table, her glass of iced tea dangling from one hand. "I don't know. Probably someplace annoying, knowing Derek."

"Well, better than nothing."

"Speaking of dating, what the hell, girlie?" Casey slapped Parker playfully. "You and Tim? Gimme the scoop."

Parker shook her head, small spots of color appearing on her cheeks. "I dunno. It's…strange. And different. But…" she laughed self-consciously. "I don't wanna jinx it."

Casey grinned. "Jinx it, huh?"

"Shut up. You were all snippy about me and Tim the other day. You threatened to cut off your shoes!"

"I was just in a snippy mood the other day." Casey smiled, taking a sip of her iced tea.

"God, this is sickening." Parker's giddy expression belied her disgusted words. "Is he really that good in bed?" She feigned concern, pressing a hand to Casey's forehead. "Or is this just a spring fever? Look how flushed you are!"

Casey batted at Parker's hand, leaning away. "I don't wanna jinx it," she said snottily.

"Someone's bitchy."

"No cursing. This is a ten-year-old's birthday party." Casey motioned with her chin to the group of small girls chasing each other around in the corner of the back yard.

"They're too busy with Tim and Derek."

Casey laughed, looking back at the group. Haley, Ben's small daughter, had wanted to hold her birthday party with a hockey theme, thanks to her cousin's interest. Currently, the group of eight or nine girls was all dressed in miniature hockey gear. And at that moment, all of the girls were chasing Tim around the yard with their plastic hockey sticks, completely ignoring Derek's attempts to teach them blocking techniques.

Parker shook her head, smiling. "Cute."

"Adorable."

"They're both marshmallows."

"Totally."

Parker giggled, nudging Casey with her elbow. "So, you never did tell me what all went down with Emily and Sam."

Casey sighed, shaking her sweaty hair off her shoulders. The late afternoon sun was shining directly on the two women and she felt small droplets of sweat breaking out on her skin. "Nothing, really. Sam caught us making out."

Parker choked on her diet Coke. "Uh, that's not nothing."

"He was okay with it. I mean, he didn't really come out and say it – I don't think Derek talked to him at all, really – but he covered for us with Emily. He seemed more amused than anything."

"Well that's a good sign."

"Yeah." Casey sipped her iced tea, watching Derek roll around in the grass with Haley. "Emily was clueless, though."

"That's one word for it." Parker eyed her friend. "What happened?"

"I yelled at her." Parker raised an eyebrow, unsurprised. "For no good reason. Other than the fact she was getting on my nerves."

"Wait, you took out your frustration on someone else?" Parker gave a mock gasp. "Never!"

"Shut up." Casey shook her head. "She was my best friend, once. I feel horrible."

"So apologize."

"I can't." She frowned. "I don't think it works like that. Besides, there's something else going on with her that she wasn't telling me. I keep thinking about the way she was acting…"

Parker shrugged. "Everyone's got their secrets, don't they?"

"Yeah."

The two sat in companionable silence for a few seconds, enjoying the afternoon sun, a silence that was forcibly broken when Tim aimed a hose at them both.

"TIM!" Shrieking, Parker shot off the bench, avoiding most of the shot, while Casey got the bulk of it.

Tim brayed a laugh. "What was that? Get Parker wet? Okay?" He aimed the hose at the redhead, who yelled and scampered away, leaving Casey caught between anger and laughter at the picnic table.

"Oh my God."

Casey turned to look at Derek, who was standing there with Haley on his hip, visibly holding back laughter. "Don't say a word."

"I didn't say 'word.' Did I say the word 'word,' Hales?"

The little girl shook her head, pointing at Casey and giggling. "Casey, you're soaking wet!"

"I noticed!" Casey flipped her dripping hair out of her eyes, turning the force of her glare on Derek. "I also noticed that you two are dry." She grabbed her now waterlogged iced tea and threw it in Derek's direction, managing to nail him in the face.

Haley giggled, shaking her wet sleeve. "Now my jersey's wet. I'm a wet Toronto Blue!"

Derek huffed, swinging Haley to the ground. "Okay, Hales. She's dead on three." Casey jumped up from the table, backing away. "Three!" They shot after her, sending Casey running away shrieking.

"This is unsportsmanlike!"

00

"What?" Casey gasped, jerking into consciousness. She blinked up at the ceiling groggily, not entirely sure what had awoken her.

Then, she heard the shrill sound of the doorbell ring, and she groaned.

"What is that?"

Casey turned to look over at Derek, who had moved over so that his head was underneath a pillow. "I dunno. I'll be right back."

He mumbled incoherently and she smiled, reluctant to leave the warm bed. But the doorbell rang again and she grumbled, stumbling out from between the blankets and feeling blindly for her robe, discarded on the bedroom floor. Finding it bunched up against the nightstand, she quickly wrapped herself up, heading out into the hallway and squinting in the light from the streetlight outside the windows.

She jogged downstairs, too tired to think of anything but shutting the doorbell up, and swung the door open, barely managing to get out a "what?"

Casey blinked, slightly disbelieving that it was actually Emily Davis standing on her doorstep. "Casey?"

"Hi." Casey frowned. "Um…" Yes, it was Emily Davis standing on her doorstep. At three in the morning. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm…not sure." Emily bit her lip, shifting her weight uneasily. "I'm sorry to be so late, but I got lost on the way from London."

"It's okay." Casey regained part of her senses and moved aside, allowing the short brunette to move into the foyer. "Do you…want something to drink?" Casey tried, unable to think of anything else to say.

"No, I'm fine." Emily stood near the door uncertainly. "Uh, I've been thinking, you know, about you and me, and what happened at the club."

"Yeah, listen I wanted to apologize about that, I – "

"No, don't. It's…I kind of deserved it." Emily exhaled a short breath, sticking her hands in her pockets. "Look, I do know why I came here, I wanted to tell you something, to explain, and – well." Emily laughed a little nervously. "I'm with Sam."

"You're…with Sam." Casey rose an eyebrow.

"You know…_with_ Sam."

"Oh. Oh!" Casey gasped as realization set in. "Okay. I get it. So?"

"So?" Emily looked hesitant. "Um…I thought you'd be mad."

"Why would I be mad?"

Emily's eyebrows scrunched together. "Because you…you guys dated. Twice." Casey's expression stayed blank. "Man, I can't believe this! I was all worried about telling you, and you don't care! I made all that effort to flirt with Derek to throw you off, and…" she trailed off as Casey started laughing. "What? What?"

Casey gasped for air, shaking her head. "Oh, man. We really need to keep in touch."

"What? What's so funny?"

Casey sighed, taking Emily's arm. "Em, we need to talk." She giggled, leading Emily into the living room. "You are _never_ going to believe this."

00


	15. Part Fifteen

There's a _slight_ spoiler in here for a future episode – as in, where Derek's mother lives. I also fake hockey know-how again, so take pity on me. I had to wing it.

00

Part Fifteen

00

"So Emily wasn't angry?"

Casey shrugged. "No. She was surprised, but not as much as I thought she'd be. She was just covering, anyway, with all that flirting at the club."

"Do you think you guys will stay in touch for real this time?"

Casey bit her lip thoughtfully. "I don't know. We said we would but…" she trailed off, shrugging. "We said the same thing last time."

"Yeah, but you're not hiding anything from each other now," Parker pointed out.

"I don't think that changes anything." Casey shook her head, taking a deep breath. "It doesn't matter. Much."

"Right. I'll be sure to listen to your dissertation on it later," Parker said absently, throwing a strange glance at the table laid out in front of them, leaning in close to Casey so as not to be overheard. "Why…exactly are we doing this again?"

Casey raised an indulgent eyebrow. "Because Abby thinks I like her."

"Right." Parker nudged her. "Why am I here, then?"

"Because you love me?" Casey tried.

"You think I have a choice in that?" Parker snorted. "Believe me, I've tried to stop liking you. You're like America's Next Top Model. I love it when they make fun of you on Best Week Ever, but I secretly TiVo you anyway."

Casey's mouth bobbed open and shut before she sighed and looked away. "I'm going to choose to take that as a compliment. The whole comparing me to models thing."

"If that's what you want to do."

Casey huffed, looking at her watch. "_Where_ is Derek? If he gets here after Abby, she's gonna throw a fit."

"Yeah, you'd think he'd be on time, with the whole alcohol being involved thing."

"It's a wine tasting, not a frat party." Casey made a face, looking around at the crowd, dressed to the nines in all the latest fashions. She pulled at her simple red dress, feeling underdressed. When she'd put it on, she felt elegant – but next to all of Abby's society friends, she felt like a twelve year old.

Parker sighed. "Yeah. So where's the wine?"

"Locked up." Casey rolled her eyes. "It's fancy, expensive wine, probably like, seventy years old. That's why we only get a taste."

Parker fidgeted, adjusting her dress, in a shade of green that accentuated her dark red hair. "I hate dressing up," she grumbled.

"Don't psychologists dress up every day?" Casey asked. "In the movies, they're always wearing pant suits and tight skirts."

"I'm not going to be a movie psychologist, Case. See I'm planning on actually helping people." Parker pulled at her clothes again. "I'm gonna wear jeans and concert tees every day and still head shrink people."

"Huh. I seem to remember you wearing your pajamas when you did it to me."

"I do it to you in every outfit I wear." Parker poked her tongue out. "Okay, that came out dirty." Casey laughed.

"What exactly are you girls talking about?"

Casey whirled around. "Derek! Thank God." She immediately went for his collar, smoothing it down and brushing imaginary lint off his shirt. "Why aren't you wearing a tie? I told you to wear a tie."

Derek brushed her hands off. "Since when do I own a tie?"

"Since I bought you one and put it on your desk last night," Casey said.

"…oh." She glared at him and he grinned sheepishly. "I came straight from practice, I had to change in the car!"

Parker laughed. "Cut him some slack, I bet you twenty bucks that Tim will show up in his sweaty hockey clothes."

"I think I remember him with a jacket," Derek offered.

"Well, that's something."

"So." Derek slid an arm around Casey's shoulders, scanning the room. "My dear mother here yet?"

"Not yet." Casey squirmed away from him. "And none of that, once she gets here."

"Why not?"

Casey huffed. "She nearly had a fit when she thought Lizzie and Edwin were dating that one time, remember?"

Derek laughed. "Oh yeah."

"Wait, what?" Parker frowned. "Lizzie and Edwin are dating?"

"No." Casey stopped, paralyzed for a moment by the thought. "I mean…no, no. Of course not." She laughed. "For Lizzie's sixteenth birthday, Abby came to her party, and well…Edwin bought her this expensive anklet that I helped him pick out." Casey rolled her eyes. "Lizzie loved it, but Abby freaked because she thought they were dating."

"It was a very boyfriend-ish type gift," Derek pointed out.

"Because I was with him when he went shopping for her, thank God," Casey said. "He wanted to buy her a tank cleaner for her fish."

Parker shuddered. "Baaad gift, boyfriend or not."

"Exactly." Casey turned to Derek. "She wanted to take Edwin back to Barcelona with her, Derek, and it wasn't even true. What would she do if she found out that it's actually happening with us?"

"Um, throw a royal fit with lots of empty threats?" Derek shrugged. "There's nothing she can _do,_ Case, she lives in Spain, if you hadn't noticed. Also, I'm of age, it's not like she can sue for custody."

"She could tell my mom and George," Casey pointed out. "Which we still need to do, by the way."

Derek sighed, moving behind her and hugging her waist. "I'll give you a cookie if you relax," he teased. Parker laughed.

"Stop that." Casey swatted at his arms. "You're annoying."

"You're no fun." She pinched his bicep and he released her, chuckling. "_Fine._ Just remember, there's wine involved tonight. You can't have wine and not have fun."

"These people seem to be pulling it off pretty nicely," Parker mentioned, looking warily at the crowd.

"They're my mother's friends, they never have fun," Derek replied. "I think it comes with being rich."

Parker snorted. "There goes my dream of being the next Dr. Phil."

"You don't wanna be Dr. Phil. Shoot for Freud, he's more your style," Casey said.

"Both of them were bald," Parker whined.

"I'm not so sure that's quite the normal occupational hazard," Casey said wryly. "Oh look, Tim's…here…" she trailed off, biting her lip.

Parker turned and froze. "Oh man…"

"What?" Derek caught sight of his friend and snorted. "Told you he had a jacket."

Tim was indeed, dressed in the clothes he normally wore beneath his gear at hockey practice – jeans and a ratty old sweater, complete with wet cuffs from the ice and drops of moisture on his shirt. His jacket, however, was bright green and proclaimed him as a 'sucker for suckers.' He swaggered through the room, winking at various women, who either tittered or gasped in horror, seemingly not noticing the whispers and gazes that followed him through the room.

"Oh…Tim," Parker greeted, her voice half dismay, half amusement.

"Hey Parks!" He picked her up by the waist and swung her around, prompting her to erupt into laughter.

"Tim! Tim, put me down," she gasped, keeping an eye on the crowd, a few disapproving gazes watching unabashedly. "You um," she cleared her throat, blushing and taking a step back. "You look…interesting."

"Still working the jacket, huh?" Derek greeted Tim with a fist bump, shaking his head bemusedly.

"Got this thing in Vegas, man, it's the best piece of clothing I own, right Case?" He straightened out the collar, winking at Casey, who was frozen in an expression halfway between horror and hysterical laughter.

"Um," Casey let out a small snort of laughter, shaking her head incredulously. "Yeah, the sports jacket is a classic, Tim."

"God, take that thing _off,_ it's hideous," Parker said bluntly.

Tim's face twisted. "What? No way."

Parker swatted at his shoulder. "This is a fancy party, at least pretend to act like you wanna fit in."

"Fiiiiine," he whined, shrugging out of the jacket. "Happy?"

Parker choked as she got a good look at his shirt, and Derek burst into laughter. "Dude, _where_ did you get that?"

Casey's eyebrows furrowed. "More importantly, why do you have a shirt with a picture of Calvin and Hobbs doing…" she swallowed. "_that?"_

Tim looked down and smirked. "Dude! I totally forgot I put this one on today. Cool."

"_Not_ cool. Put your jacket back on." Parker rolled her eyes, huffing. "You're impossible."

"Only for you baby," he said, winking as he put his jacket back on.

She shot him a withering stare. "I'm going to the ladies' room," she said pointedly. "Zip that thing up, for God's sake." She shook her head and strode off, hair bouncing behind her.

Tim grinned, watching her go. "Is she a catch or what?"

Casey eyed him. "You're a pig," she declared.

Tim looked back at her, face blank. "…and?"

Casey glared at him. "You – "

"_Hey,_" Derek interrupted. "Look, it's my _mother._ Wow. Great." He shot a look at Tim. "Um, you should leave. Now."

Tim snorted. "Happy to." He eyed the direction Parker had left in and wandered off, muttering under his breath.

Casey shook her head and bit back her retort, turning in the direction Derek was pointing. "Oh. Wow," she said, surprised.

Abby Nichols, formerly Venturi, was dressed in an authentic Spanish flamenco dress. Complete with castanets. Her dark hair was plaited in an intricate braid, pinned in a circular bun to the top of her head, one lone curl escaping and formed into a sharp curl, plastered to her cheek. Her face was painted in dramatic make up, and there was a large, heavy necklace encircling her throat. She looked like she belonged on a movie set.

"Oh man," Derek groaned. "I can't believe that woman gave birth to me."

Casey smacked him, speaking through her teeth as she plastered on a smile for Abby, who'd spotted them and was prancing over. "Be nice or I will cut you off."

Derek swallowed thickly, hissing out a breath. "You're an underhanded, sneaky little…Mom!" His smile was wide and fake. "Hi."

"Derek," Abby greeted, chin tilted up. She leaned in closer, waiting. Derek grimaced, leaning forward and kissing her cheek quickly. "How wonderful to see you!" she gushed, kissing his cheek as well. Then she turned to Casey. "Well, well. Look at you."

Casey shifted. "Heh. Yeah, look at me."

"You look nice, Casey. I always love how you can manage to look so pretty with so little to work with," she said absently, causing Casey to wince. "Muy bonita, muchacha!" Abby waggled her eyebrows, and Casey forced a small giggle. She leaned in, making the same gesture as Derek, and Casey gave her the required kiss, receiving one in return. "How long has it been? Must be, wow, two, three years?"

"Um, I saw you last year, actually. Christmas?"

"Oh, right. Well," she said breezily. "Time flies, no?"

Derek nodded, face frozen. "Uh huh." His voice was dry, and Casey moved her arm slightly so the back of her hand was touching his hip. He was radiating tension.

"I'm so glad you both were able to come," Abby said, eyes moving about the room. "You'll meet Teddy, too – he's parking the car."

"Teddy?" Casey asked.

"Oh, my fiancé!"

Derek choked. "Your – your what?"

"My fiancé," Abby repeated cluelessly. "He's just precious, you'll love him." Derek's mouth opened and closed several times, no sound escaping. "Shut your mouth dear, you look like a fish."

"You're engaged?!" Derek blurted incredulously. Casey bit her lip and moved closer to him, palm brushing his back.

"Oh, yeah." Abby held out her left hand, showing off a sparkling diamond ring on her third finger. "Gorgeous, huh? I wanted an emerald, but Teddy's traditional."

Casey nodded, seeing Abby looking at them expectantly. "Um, congratulations," she said weakly.

"I didn't even know you were dating anybody," Derek said tightly.

"It's been kind of a whirlwind thing. We're barely settled in the new house, I haven't had time to breathe let alone plan anything. Haven't even set a date yet," she said breezily. "Anyway, I should go socialize. Have fun, look around. The wine stations will open soon, should be a blast." She waved, sweeping off.

Derek's gaze stayed on the spot where her mother had been standing, just a second before. "She moved back to Canada?"

Casey sighed. "I'm sure she didn't mean anything by it – "

"She's _engaged_."

"She's just…ditzy, Derek, you know how it is…"

He shook his head, frustrated. "I knew there was a reason I hated going to these things." She rested her forehead briefly on his shoulder, palm sneaking beneath his shirt to settle on the skin of his lower back. "God."

"Come on. Let's find something else to think about."

He let her lead him away, mumbling under his breath. "_Engaged_. I can't believe she's getting married, again. Like the last time wasn't enough…"

00

"Casey. Hey. Did you know Abby's engaged?"

Casey rolled her eyes. "We heard," she said dryly.

Parker was standing behind her in line, voice hushed as the speaker explained the qualities of the wine he was presenting. "I thought she lived in Spain, too – she was talking about her new house in San Francisco."

"San Francisco?" Casey asked. "I thought their house was here in Toronto. Or – I assumed, I guess. She lived here before."

"I thought it was Barcelona?" Parker asked, confused.

"Yeah. I mean – no, she lived in London with George, then she moved in with her sister after the divorce. Then about a year after George married my mom, she got a fellowship with a museum in Barcelona and moved. And now she's back, and in San Francisco, apparently," Casey explained. "She's an art historian, she restores paintings."

"I heard that," Parker said. "What's up with Derek? He didn't know about the fiancé?"

"No," Casey said. "Abby just told him, when she came in."

"Harsh," Parker remarked. "All her friends here seem to know already."

Casey shook her head. "She's just…air headed. She latches onto things and goes crazy for awhile, then gets bored with it. She's got the attention span of a five year old." Casey eyed Derek, who was standing at a different table with Tim. "Derek resents it, I think. He doesn't talk about her much, though."

Parker shifted her weight. "God, being friends with you guys is giving me so much practice," she snarked. "Maybe I should take Derek for a session, see what I can do to his head."

"That sounded so dirty." A funny look passed over Casey's face. "Did I just say that? I've been hanging out with Tim too much."

Parker snorted. "You're a pervert in disguise, I just know it."

"Yeah right."

They quieted momentarily as the speaker finished his presentation and offered the crowd to each have a sip of the wine. The line started moving forward as people stepped up to have a drink. "So have you met _Teddy_?" Parker asked.

"Not yet."

"He's over there." Parker pointed to where Tim and Derek were standing, and Casey saw a tall blonde man for the first time, chatting with Tim. She looked at Derek, who seemed to be standing, staring off into space.

"That's him?" she asked.

"Yeah, I met him briefly earlier, when I met Abby." Parker shook her head. "He's nice, I guess. Quiet. Really, the creepiest thing is that he looks – "

"Exactly like _George,_" Casey finished, shuddering. "Oh God, that's creepy. I don't wanna think about that."

"No wonder Derek looks like he swallowed a bowling ball."

Casey licked her lips nervously. "I'm gonna go over there."

"What, you don't wanna taste this one?" Parker asked. "I had some of the Merlot, earlier. The wine, at least, is easy to deal with here."

"No. After all I haven't met Teddy yet!" Casey feigned excitement and Parker smiled ruefully, waving her off.

Casey threw back her shoulders and walked over to the small group confidently, discreetly alerting Derek to her presence with a brush of her hand on the back of his forearm. "Hey, Tim. Derek. And you must be Teddy."

Teddy – who looked even more like her stepfather than she'd noticed from across the room – smiled, shaggy blonde hair falling over his eyes messily. "Casey, right? The stepsister?"

Casey nodded, shaking his hand. "Nice to meet you. Teddy, the fiancé."

"That'd be me." Teddy nodded toward Tim and Derek. "Tim and Derek were just telling me about the hockey season. It's almost over, right?"

Casey glanced at Derek, who was staring anywhere but at Teddy. She had a feeling that Derek hadn't been telling Teddy about much of anything. "Yeah, they've got a couple games left. You're going to Concordia next week to play – right Derek?"

Derek didn't reply, and Tim – tactful for the first time in his life – jumped in. "Yup – the Stingers. They're pretty good, but with Derek on offense and Roberts on defense, we can get it. If Roberts tightens up his left side, that is."

Derek grunted. Casey elbowed him and he jerked. "Yeah."

"Right. So Derek, you're a pretty good hockey player, huh?"

Derek didn't answer, so Casey cleared her throat. "He is," she offered. "There've been a couple scouts that were interested in him."

"Oh really? That sounds impressive," Teddy said.

"Yeah," Tim scoffed. "The lucky bastard's going to film school, though."

"Film school?" Teddy nodded, smiling tightly. "Wow."

"Yeah." Derek cleared his throat, turning away. "I'm gonna…go over there." He brushed off Casey's grab for his hand and walked away.

Teddy sighed. "Well, can't say I didn't expect that."

"Dude's a little freaked." Tim drained his wine glass. "You wanna take it Case, or should I?"

Casey shifted uncomfortably, eyeing Teddy. "Why would I? I'm just his stepsister." Tim stared at her blankly and she huffed. "You go, I'll talk to him later."

"Okay." Tim handed his glass to Teddy and walked off after Derek, adjusting his bright green jacket.

Teddy regarded the empty glass in his hand curiously, moving to set it on a nearby table. "He's an…interesting character."

"That's one way of putting it." Casey studied the man carefully. While he looked eerily similar to George Venturi, Teddy seemed quiet and serious, his demeanor more reserved. "Derek will be fine," she offered. "Abby sprung this on him twenty minutes ago. He just needs some time to get used to the idea."

Teddy sighed. "I've been after her to tell her kids for a month now. She's just a little scattered, I'm afraid."

"Yeah." Casey offered him a smile. "So, Teddy – what do you do, anyway?"

Teddy straightened up, grateful for the change in subject. "Oh, I run a publishing company. Turntable Publishing."

"You – " Casey stuttered. "You _run_ Turntable Books?"

"Yeah." Teddy smiled sheepishly.

"Wow." Casey blinked.

"Are you interested in publishing?" Teddy asked.

"Um, yeah. I mean, I might be. I'm a Literature major," she explained. "I'm not sure what I want to go into yet."

"Well, publishing is a growing industry," Teddy said. "It's great for young people who love literature."

"I have…thought about it," Casey said.

"Well you know, I'm always looking for fresh talent," Teddy said. "We employ positions in dozens of cities for kids right out of school, people who have a knack for it. You'd be seeking out talent, setting up book tours, working directly with authors. If you're interested, I could give you a couple people to contact."

"That…that'd be wonderful," Casey said, flattered. "I haven't graduated yet, though."

"Well you're a senior, right?" Casey nodded. "That's fine. Why don't I give you my card?" Teddy reached into his jacket pocket and retrieved a business card, handing it off to Casey. "Call that number and my secretary will give you some people to talk to. Okay?"

"Thanks," she said, a bit shell-shocked. "That's…very generous of you."

"Yeah, well. I'm not evil." He smirked. "Let Derek know that, okay?"

She chuckled. "I will."

00

The end of the night found Derek outside of the winery, sitting away from the departing crowd, on a curb near the parking lot. He watched the guests leave in clusters, hands clasped near his knees.

"There you are." He looked up to see Casey approaching, holding his leather jacket. "Here."

He accepted it gratefully, pulling it on as she sat down next to him on the cement next to him. "Thanks."

She scooted over so that she was pressed against his side, her thigh against his, her hair brushing his shoulder. "I'm sorry about your mom, Derek."

"It's not your fault." He sighed.

"I talked to Teddy a little," she said hopefully. "He seems nice."

"He looks exactly like my dad," he said dryly. "If that's not weird and creepy, I don't know what is."

"Yeah, well…" she shrugged. "He's a good guy, Derek. He wants you to like him."

"I know…" Derek shook his head, voice dry. "It's not his fault he's a nice guy."

"Derek…" Casey laid her head on his shoulder, wanting to tell him about the job that Teddy had talked about, but decided against it. She didn't finish her thought, merely reached down for his hand, lacing her fingers through his.

They sat in silence for awhile, watching the crowd of guests dissipate, until no more people were trickling out of the building.

"Did Tim and Parker leave already?" Casey asked, breaking the silence.

"I think he took her home early," Derek said. "He said something about wasting the jacket on an ignorant crowd."

Casey snorted. "Well, at least he didn't run into Abby."

He smiled, turning so that his chin was resting on her head. "Did I tell you how beautiful you looked tonight?"

She grinned. "Not yet."

"Well you do." He gave her hand a squeeze. "So this dating thing," he said after a moment. "I think I'm gonna like it. The whole having someone on my side, thing."

She thought of Teddy's business card in her purse, wondering momentarily what Derek would think. She quickly pushed the notion away, pulling her head back to give him a kiss. "I think I'm gonna like it, too."

00

Okay, so the last story arc that I mentioned? Can you guess what it is? ;)

Seriously though, this is the beginning of the end. Thanks for sticking it out – we've still got a few chapters left at least, but now I actually mean it when I say we're almost done.


	16. Part Sixteen

Why oh why must Derek be a sports buff? Pfft. I know a fair bit more about this sport than I do about hockey, but still read warily. I by no means would even qualify as a fan, let alone an expert.

Also, you should know this before you read…I am evil and I play dirty. Just so you know.

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Part Sixteen

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"_This_ is where you're taking me?"

Derek shifted the car into park and turned off the engine, shooting her a grin. "Uh huh."

Casey stared at him for a second, before laughing airily. "Right, right. You're funny. Okay, we can leave for our real date now."

"This is our real date," he said. "Hey, you said take you out. I'm taking you out. Do you have any idea how much tickets cost at the last minute?"

"Tickets to a baseball game?" Casey replied, slightly shrilly. "I don't watch baseball! I don't even watch _hockey_."

"You do too watch hockey, you just like to pretend that you don't." Casey started to protest and he cut her off. "Hey. It's an experience. Expanding your horizons, trying new things, and all that."

"An experience of pain and discomfort," she shot back. "I can't believe I shaved my legs for this."

"Aw, just for me? You shouldn't have." He tugged on her hand. "Come on, try it out. Overcrowded seats, bad food, guys in tight pants…it's just like one of your dance recitals, only less gay."

She glared at him. "Fine. But I pick the next date. And trust me when I say it'll be painful."

"I love it when use your stern teacher voice like that. Totally turns me on." He hopped out of the car, coming around to the passenger side to help Casey out of the seat. "Look, look. I'm being chivalrous. See?"

"I'm pretty sure you don't get points for it when you make it obvious like that," Casey said, the smile hinting at the corners of her mouth giving away her amusement. She shot a nervous glance at the stadium and smoothed down her skirt. "Am I dressed okay?"

"You're fine. It might get a little cold, but I can always warm you up." He winked and took her by the waist leading her towards the gates.

"Maybe I should go back and change."

"Uh uh." He pulled her forward. "Come on," he said enticingly. "I'll buy you one of those foam fingers."

"Oh, a foam finger. So much better than flowers," she said dryly. "Derek," she whined. "I'm gonna be bored."

"You can't be bored, you're with me." He swung her forward by her arm, hugging her to his side and pulling her forcefully towards the stadium. "Just relax and go with it."

"How many times have you said that to me and regretted it later?" Casey asked.

He smiled. "To you? Never."

"I hope you don't expect me to catch one of those foul ball things."

"I hope you don't expect me to pay attention to your whining."

She huffed. "You suck."

"I rock." He grinned. "Come on, the first pitch is in fifteen minutes."

00

"What's that mean?"

"That's the score," Derek said dryly.

"Well, why are there so many numbers?" Casey wrinkled her nose. "Why can't it be like basketball, where it's just, you know, Team A has ten and Team B has thirty? This is confusing."

He pointed to the scoreboard. "Each column is the score for one inning. It shows how each team scored in each, and there – " he gestured to the end. "That's the final score. See Toronto has two, with the runs in the first inning, against Calgary's zero."

She frowned. "It's still confusing."

"It's all about statistics," he said. "Baseball breaks everything down to numbers."

"How does this translate into numbers?" Casey asked. "They're running around a huge diamond."

"It's simple math," he replied. "Math and logic." She cocked an eyebrow at him and he sighed mournfully. "Must I explain everything to you?"

She stuck her tongue out at him. "Humor me."

"Okay. See this guy here?" Derek gestured to the player at bat. "He'll be the last batter in the inning, I think. See they've got two outs already, and there's a player on third and second." He pointed to the bases and shot a look at Casey, who was nodding. "With me?"

"I think so."

"Okay. The best thing he could do is get a home run, which will automatically get him three points – him, plus the two men on base. But if he hits a fly ball and someone catches it in the outfield, he's out, and neither of the other two can score." He shot another look at Casey, who was frowning in concentration. "The best thing he could do is hit a double. He brings the two men home, and he gets on base. No outs, and they get another hitter."

"Okay," Casey said slowly. "But…what if he hits a ball, and they get him out after the other two players have already hit home? Don't they still get those two points?"

"No, because the inning is over as soon as the third player is out. Whatever that player accomplishes doesn't count."

"Uh huh." Casey bit her lip. "I think I get it."

"Good." Derek tilted his chin at the player. "He's got two balls already. They might try and walk him."

"That's when he gets a free pass to first base, right?" Derek nodded. "Oh. Okay."

"Are you just pretending to know what I'm talking about?" he asked.

"No," she said. "Well…a little." She grinned. "I understand most of it though!"

He chuckled. "That's all I ask." His head snapped forward to the game as the crack of the bat echoed through the stadium. "Eh, he's out."

"How do you know?" Casey squinted into the sky. "I can't even see the ball."

"Right there." Derek pointed to the outfield, and Casey swiveled her head around just in time to see a player snatch the ball from the air, immediately throwing back towards the pitcher. Applause came from the crowd as the players from both teams jogged back toward the dugouts, the inning over. "He hit it too high. It went straight to the outfielder."

"Okay," Casey said blankly.

He laughed. "You'll learn to love it."

He put his arm around her and she leaned into him. "I doubt it."

"Everyone loves baseball," he said. "It's like sex."

"Sex?" She repeated disbelievingly. "And how's that?"

"Come on. The bases? As in, 'Casey totally let Derek make it to third base last night?'" He grinned at her blush, dodging her smack. "See, there. You smiled. I made you smile, that's a hit. Your defenses are up, but – " he nudged her playfully. "I'm safe on first."

She glared at him teasingly. "As I recall, there are three other bases to get through."

"Yeah, well. I'm a very experienced player." He ran his knuckles down her shoulder, nodding towards the field. "Now, look at this guy, he's fast. He looks like he might steal second." She looked out at the field, and while she was distracted, he leaned in and brushed a kiss down the side of her neck. She shivered, leaning towards him slightly, and he smirked. "And I'm rounding onto second."

She elbowed him. "You're on shaky ground, Venturi."

He grinned. "Okay, this guy I have faith in." A beefy player stepped up to bat. "He won't let me down."

Casey shot him an amused look. "I dunno. He looks kinda weak."

"No, he's my man, I can feel it." Derek watched with a smirk as the player took the hit, sending the baseball flying into the air. "Oh. Oh! What did I tell you?!"

The crowd rose to its feet and Derek and Casey followed, craning their necks to see the passage of the ball. It flew over the field, sailing over the edge of the stadium. The crowd burst into thunderous applause and fireworks burst from spouts on either side of the scoreboard, which was flashing in congratulatory animation.

Derek clapped along, turning to Casey with a smirk. "Home run."

Casey eyed him warily. "Uh huh."

He wagged at finger at her. "I'll let you out of this one, McDonald. We are in public and all. But mark my words, I will be cashing in later on."

Casey tilted her chin up. "You never know. This might just be the last home run they get. Pure luck, maybe."

"They will prevail." They took their seats with the rest of the crowd.

"Don't get your hopes up," Casey said, poking his side. "The players out there are a far sight smoother than the one sitting next to me."

"That hurts, Case, it really does." But he smiled widely and placed his arm back around her shoulders in what was quickly becoming a familiar gesture. "But I'll let it go, I know you didn't mean it. I did just score, after all."

"They scored, you haven't yet," Casey reminded him. "I wouldn't be so confident, if I were you."

He pulled her closer, resting his chin against her temple. "You're adorable when you're in denial."

She chuckled softly, giving up on the banter. "Okay, so…maybe this wasn't such a bad idea," she said.

"I told you you'd have fun," he said. "Am I genius or am I a genius?"

"You're an ass," she countered. "But a sweet one."

"Sweet." He scoffed. "I'm not sweet. I'm bad ass."

"Yes, your ass is very bad," she said placatingly. "Sometimes I can't even bear to look at it."

"So you'd look at it normally?"

She shrugged. "Guess we'll never know now, will we?"

He sighed. "I'm aware of the consequences," he intoned seriously. He shot a look at her, noticing her shiver as a breeze swept by. "Are you cold yet?"

"Yes." She sighed, burrowing into his side. "You said something about warming me up?"

"I'm saving that for when we're alone, remember?" He rubbed her arm, trying to create warmth with the friction. "You can have my jacket, if you want."

"No, I think I'm good," she said, her cheek pressed to his shoulder. "Keep doing that." He smiled silently, continuing to rub her arm. She grabbed for his free hand, pulling it over in her lap. "So what gave you this idea, anyway? You said you got the tickets last minute."

He turned his hand over, allowing her to trace his palm with her fingertips. "My mom did, actually."

"Your mother?" she inquired curiously.

"Yeah." He moved his leg so that it was propped up against the seat in front of them, and Casey pressed her thigh against his, greedy for his body warmth. "Not really anything she said, just seeing her again reminded me of baseball."

"Hmm. You know, seeing Abby last night…" she shook her head, lips quirked in amusement. "Baseball wasn't really the first word that sprung to mind."

He smirked. "She wasn't always like that, you know," he said. "She used to be really cool. Cooler than my dad, at any rate."

"Really?" Casey looked up at him, intrigued. He'd never been one to talk much about his life prior to George and Nora's wedding. Casey had asked in the past, but Derek had always remained silent.

"Yeah." He kept his eyes on the game, still rubbing her arm absentmindedly. "She's a huge sports fan. Or she was. Her dad was a professional baseball player, he played for some team in the States." He tipped his head and smiled. "Hence, baseball."

"Your grandfather was a baseball player?" Casey asked, surprised. "I didn't know that. I never thought much about your grandparents at all, to be honest."

"You've met my dad's parents," he reminded her. "And you thought my mom was crazy."

She giggled. "Okay, so what about this baseball playing grandfather of yours?"

He shrugged. "He died a long time ago, before I was born. But my mom always loved baseball, she used to take me and Edwin to games all the time. She even got me onto a team once, when I was little."

"You played baseball?" Casey asked, surprised.

"Only for one season." He grimaced. "I might not have been…_completely_ perfect at it."

"You sucked?" Casey grinned. "You suck at baseball!"

"Hey. I sucked with style." He smiled. "Put me on skates and I'm home, but make me run anywhere and I'm out."

She giggled. "A sport you suck at. This just made my day."

"Yeah, well, don't get used to it. I'm totally awesome at everything else." He nudged her and she laughed, her head falling back to his shoulder. "Anyway, I saw her last night and thought of all those games she and I used to watch. And I figured – I've got another woman to watch baseball with now."

Casey smiled, oddly touched. "I don't know whether to take that as incredibly sweet, or incredibly creepy, since you just compared me to your mother."

"I'd prefer the former."

"Right." Casey smiled, entwining his fingers with hers. "So your mom's a sports buff, huh? I thought your dad was the sports guy."

"He's the hockey guy," Derek corrected. "That's all he has time for. Thank God that's the sport I'm good at; with any other sport he'd be completely lost."

"Huh. Well, that makes sense, actually," Casey replied. "He acts like such an idiot at Lizzie's soccer games."

He laughed. "Well, yeah."

"So…" Casey started, slightly unsure. "How are you with…" she shrugged. "Teddy."

He blew out a breath, his arm tightening around her shoulder. "I'm…okay, I guess."

"You guess?"

"Yeah. She was engaged before, you know," he said. "To this guy named Rick, right after she and my dad got divorced. Before he met Nora."

"Really?"

"Yeah. They broke up around the time you guys were moving in."

"Oh." Casey's voice was soft. "I didn't know that."

"Yeah. So…I don't know. This guy might not last either."

"He's nice," she said. "He runs Turntable Books."

"Right up your alley then," he teased. "Well, if he's into literature he must be perfect then, huh?"

"Hush up." She ran the back of her hand down his chest soothingly. "I'm sorry your mom's so…" she trailed off, searching for an adequate and polite description. "So…Abby-ish."

"That's one way of putting it." He avoided her gaze, staring at the field. "Thanks."

"Derek?" Casey prompted softly.

"I don't know," he replied. "She just…changed. After Marti was born." He shook his head, expression slightly pained. "It was weird."

Casey pursed her lips, moving so that her forehead was pressed to his collarbone, her hair falling down on either side of his face, brushing against his arm. "What happened?"

He leaned his chin on top of her head. "My dad told us she had post-partum depression, but it didn't explain her complete personality change." He moved his hand so that it was now rubbing her back. "I don't know. I was really young, maybe she didn't change all that much at all."

"How old were you, Nine? Ten?" Casey asked. "If you noticed it then, I'm sure it must've been pretty obvious."

"Well, I was eleven when they got divorced," he said. "I was twelve when she moved to Spain. Marti was only four when she left."

"Hmm." Casey turned her head, her cheek against his chest, his chin still resting on her head. "I was seven when my parents got divorced. I lived with my dad for awhile before I moved in with my mom to start high school at the Academy."

Derek was silent for a second. "I didn't know that," he said.

"Yeah." She sighed. "I was so mad at her when I found out she was getting married. I felt like I'd just gotten used to everything, and then she was gonna go and change it all again."

"Yeah." Derek's voice was quiet. "Yeah, I know exactly what you mean."

She smiled, closing her eyes. "Okay, so this definitely wasn't a bad idea," she said after awhile. "I think I like baseball."

"You're not even watching," he replied, amused.

"I don't have to," she replied. "You can tell me later."

"Will you listen?" he teased.

"If you do it nicely," she said back, pressing a kiss to his throat. "I might even understand it."

"I guess I'll have to put away all my insults for a bit, then, huh?"

"Oh, don't do anything rash," she said. "We wouldn't want to change the dynamic of our relationship _completely_."

"I'm nice to you," he said, sounding affronted. "I helped you out of the car earlier, didn't I?"

She lifted her head to look at him and giggled. "Yes, okay, you get points for that. You can stop reminding me now."

"I'm just making sure that you're fully appreciating the depth of my awesomeness." She giggled harder. "Hey, now. That wasn't a joke."

"You're such a doof."

"A sexy doof," he said, making her laugh again. "Hey, what base am I on now?"

She shook her head. "The bases have been wide open all night, player." She grinned. "Plus you know how I suck at sports."

"I suck at baseball too, you know," he pointed out, his gaze on her lips.

"Well however much you sucked, I'm still sure that you'd be better at it then me," she said. "I'd probably trip over the dugout stairs before I even got anywhere."

"Well good thing we're not _actually _playing baseball then, huh?" He leaned in close, his nose brushing hers. "See we're both good at this game."

She smiled, her eyes falling shut as she closed the distance between them, pulling him into a slow, intoxicating kiss. His hand came up to the back of her neck, holding her in place, and she shivered, her muscles seeming to relax and tense up, all at the same time.

"Excuse me." A clearing of a throat interrupted and they broke apart, Derek turning around to see an embarrassed looking fan. "Sorry. Can I get through?"

"Oh. Right, yeah. Sorry." Derek dropped his leg from the seat in front of him and stood, Casey doing the same, letting the guy past.

Casey shot Derek a rueful look. "You broke your PDA rule."

"Yeah." He narrowed his eyes at her. "You wanna get outta here?"

She looked up at the scoreboard. "It's only the fifth inning."

He shrugged. "Doesn't matter. I can catch the score on the news later." He grabbed her purse from the ground, handing it to her. "You're cold, and you don't like baseball, and…" he grinned. "I've got a feeling the PDA rule will become ancient history if we don't get out of the public eye pretty quickly."

She grinned, taking his hand and moving out into the aisle. "You're a softie."

"No, I'm horny."

She snorted, pulling at his shirt. "Maybe. But a softie."

He shook his head, grinning. "Don't make me carry you outta here on my shoulder."

"I'd like to see you try." She poked her tongue out at him, flipping her hair over her shoulder. "Race you to the top." She grinned and took off up the cement steps before Derek could blink.

"Hey!" He stood there in shock for a moment before racing after her. "God, I forgot how you cheat."

00

"I so won."

"You did not!" Derek followed her up the stairs to their apartment, his hands on her waist. "You cheated."

"I do not cheat," Casey said, aghast. "I'm offended you would even think that."

"You're a horrible cheater!" Derek said, backing her up against the door. "I can't play cards with you ever, you always stack the deck."

"I can't help it if I have wonderful luck with poker."

"Uh huh." He smirked, eyes flickering to the door. "So…" he turned his head away, putting on a mock pout. "I had a really nice time tonight."

Casey grinned, stepping up to her part. "Yeah," she said, voice mockingly deep. "I, uh, me too."

"So…" Derek took a strand of her hair, playing with it. "I guess I'll…see you. At school tomorrow, right?"

"The football game's this weekend," she replied. "Will you cheer me on?"

"Always." He grinned. "That is, if I'm not cheering on someone else."

"Aw, you wouldn't cheer on anyone but me, woulda babe?" Casey suppressed a smile. "I'm the only guy in your life, right?"

Derek shrugged. "Well, you will be until I get a better offer," he said. "I hear the quarterback just broke up with his girlfriend."

"That idiot?" Casey scoffed, slipping her arms around his neck. "I'm a much better deal than him."

"Oh really?"

"Really." She smirked. "He doesn't put out."

Derek laughed. "I'll have you know, I'm not that kind of girl."

"I beg to differ," Casey teased. "I think you're exactly that type of girl."

"Don't pressure me," Derek warned. "I'm at a very fragile place in my life right now. My horoscope said I would be tempted by a bad influence this week."

"Sometimes it's fun to be bad," Casey said, reaching up on her tiptoes to press her mouth against his so lightly, it could barely be called a kiss. "You know you want it." She kept her lips tantalizingly close to his as she spoke, her voice lowering to a whisper.

"And here I thought you were different from all those other guys," Derek murmured. He gave into her kiss, pushing her backwards until she was pressed up against the door, his hands pressing firmly on her hips.

Casey moved into him, one leg moving upwards to press against the side of his waist. He seized her thigh in one hand, hitching it higher as he pressed closer, both of them leaning the majority of their weight on the door.

Casey was unable to stop the moan bubbling up in her throat, the familiar heat racing across her skin as Derek smoothed his hands up her thighs, beneath her skirt. She let go, all reservations flying away as she allowed Derek complete control, a heady feeling that Casey had never been able to say she truly enjoyed until that moment. The difference was, she figured, was that this time she was _choosing_ to let Derek take charge. It was a surprisingly intense and enjoyable sensation.

At least she _was_ enjoying it, until the door opened.

Derek and Casey, who'd still been leaning against the door, were taken completely by surprise by their support suddenly disappearing. Both of them tumbled through the doorway and onto the floor, Derek barely managing to shift his weight in time to keep from crushing Casey beneath him. Casey gave a muffled shriek that turned into a grunt as she hit the floor, barely managing to register what had happened before she heard somebody else give a strangled cry. Somebody who wasn't her – and who definitely wasn't Derek.

"Derek – _C-Casey_?!"

Derek blinked, lifting his head from Casey's neck. He swallowed thickly, his mind still foggy with shock and desire. "Oh, God," he managed. "Um…hi, Mom."

00

-laughs maniacally-


	17. Part Seventeen

I know, I know. I fail at life. Throw things at me later, I've got a story to freakin finish.

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Part Seventeen

00

Derek blinked, lifting his head from Casey's neck. He swallowed thickly, his mind still foggy with shock and desire. "Oh, God," he managed. "Um…hi, Mom."

Abby Nichols was standing in the foyer of their apartment, clutching the doorknob, her face white with shock. "What – what are you doing?"

Derek became aware of a hand slapping his shoulder and he looked down, seeing Casey's face turned away as she attempted to push him off of her. "Oh, right." He scrambled off of her, grabbing her hand to help her up.

Casey quickly dropped his hand and stepped away, pulling her skirt down and blushing as red as a tomato. "Um…Derek and I were, well. We were – "

Abby's eyes were wide and she stood there, looking at Casey blankly.

"I think it's pretty obvious what we were doing," Derek interjected, dodging the deathly glance from Casey. "Sorry you had to see that. Awkward," he said briskly. "So yeah, what are you doing here?"

Abby jerked slightly, furrowing her brow as if unsure that Derek was talking to her. "I…Teddy and I, we're taking you guys out to dinner."

Derek regarded her frankly. "Why?"

Casey nudged him. "That's…very generous of you, Abby."

Hearing Casey address her seemed to jolt Abby out of her half trance and she abruptly released the doorknob, letting the door fall shut. Casey jumped slightly as it slammed, rattling the door frame. "What – you two are – " Abby gestured between them vaguely, frowning.

Casey blushed again, eyes falling to the ground. Derek moved closer to her, one hand smoothing down the hair that fell down her back. "Yeah," he said casually. "So how did you get in here?"

Abby's mouth opened and closed several times before something sparked in her face and her hands moved to her hips. "Just what do you think you're doing, Derek Venturi?"

"Nothing?" Derek ventured, unaffected by his mother's cross voice. "How did you get in here?" he repeated.

Abby's face fell into a deep frown, and she narrowed her eyes at her son. "Derek, I'd like to speak to you alone." She whirled on her heel and strode into the kitchen with a dramatic flourish.

Derek rolled his eyes, but Casey was shifting her weight nervously, wringing her hands. "Derek…"

"Chill." He kissed her temple. "She's all bluster. Just wait here, this won't take long." He smiled reassuringly, knowing that she would pace a sidewalk into the carpet by the time he got back.

Derek followed his mother's path into the kitchen, finding Abby moving nervously around the kitchen, hands fluttering around her face. "Derek, what are you doing?" she barked, as soon as the door swung shut behind him. "Seriously." Her voice sounded high-pitched and panicky.

Derek raised his eyebrows. "Nothing?"

"Derek! This is serious."

He shrugged. "Mom, it's not that big of a deal."

"How is it _not_ a big deal?" Abby's forehead creased, one line forming between her eyebrows. "Does your father know about this?"

"Probably," he replied blandly. Abby's mouth opened indignantly and Derek cut her off. "I dunno, Mom. It's not like we took an ad out in the paper."

"You…you _live_ with her."

Derek tilted his head, his voice slow and mockingly deliberate. "I know that."

Abby looked at him incredulously. "Is this…some kind of plea for attention? Are you angry that I got engaged?"

"What?" Derek spat. "First of all, if I was with Casey to get back at you, don't you think I would've…I dunno, _told_ you about her? And second of all, thanks _so_ much for the bombshell by the way, but I'm kind of used to getting news on your life late by now."

"That's not fair," Abby shot back.

"Really." Derek shook his head, leaning back against the countertop. "Look, I know what I'm doing. Casey knows what she's doing. And speaking of Casey, you should probably go apologize or she's gonna torture herself for the next six months."

"Apologize?"

"You freaked her out, Mom."

Abby sputtered, still making wild gestures with her hands. "I freaked _her_ out? Really? And seeing the two of you dry humping on the entryway floor wasn't freaky to me?"

"We weren't _dry humping_," Derek protested. "We wouldn't have even been on the floor if you hadn't have opened the door."

"Oh, and what exactly were you doing out there that prompted the need to lean up against it?"

Derek opened his mouth for a furious reply only to be cut off by a timid knock on the doorframe of the kitchen.

Casey poked her head in, face pale. "Uh, sorry to interrupt, but Teddy's here."

Abby's countenance shifted quickly from irritation to trepidation. "Oh. Okay…"

Derek rolled his eyes. "We won't tell him, Mom."

"That's not what I'm worried about," Abby said too quickly. Casey looked down at her feet. "Look. Okay." She took a deep breath. "I always do this. I'm sorry, guys. Okay? You surprised me."

Derek moved to Casey's side, one hand automatically reaching out to her. "It's fine, Mom."

"It kind of isn't." Abby looked like she wanted to say something more, but instead shook her head briskly, curls bouncing. "Well, let's salvage the evening, at least. You guys feel up to dinner, or what? Our treat."

Casey looked up at Derek curiously, who was staring off into space blankly. "Uh, sure," she said, when he didn't give an answer.

"Great." Abby smiled, a little too brightly, and walked briskly past them, back into the living room. "Well come on, then."

Casey followed her progress with her eyes, turning back to Derek after a moment. "Well?"

"Well." Derek shrugged and caught her hand in his. "Her head didn't explode."

Casey eyed him warily. "The evening is young."

00

So overall, this probably was one of the most awkward of dinner parties that Casey had ever attended. Including the dinner she'd had with one of her English professors, his wife _and_ his mistress. Not to mention the suspicious looking Spanish guy that Mrs. English had introduced as the taste tester.

" Barcelona is just so…sunny," Abby declared. "You don't get much sun here in Toronto. Do we?" 

Casey shrugged while Derek dropped his fork listlessly, throwing a wry look in her direction. "It gets sunny sometimes," she said. "In the…summer. And spring. And, you know. Daytime."

Teddy nodded. "Happens."

"Well, there was a Costa del Sol in Barcelona," Abby said. "Means, um, beach of the sun and – " she paused and took a generous gulp of her wine. "Yeah."

"Interesting, Mom." Derek stole Casey's roll and waggled his eyebrows at her.

"Yeah." Teddy looked around the table uncertainly, obviously confused at the source of tension. " Spain really is a beautiful country, Derek. You ever been?"

"Casey and I went to Switzerland last year," Derek said, chewing on his bread. He smirked. "_We_ had a lot of fun. You should've seen _us._ _We_ went wild."

Abby looked at him, plainly not amused. "That must have been _nice,_ Derek," She said flatly. "For _you_ to spend so much time with _Casey. Together._"

"_We_ did think it was _nice._"

"_We_ were not an issue then," Casey said, glaring. "And maybe _you_ should shut _your _mouth about _us._" Derek raised an eyebrow and crossed his eyes at her. "Ugh."

"Am I missing something?" Teddy asked, completely lost.

"No," Abby and Casey said together. Derek smirked and tore off another piece of the bread with his teeth.

"That almost sounded convincing," Teddy said.

"So," Casey said briskly, plastering a smile on her face. "Teddy, how did you and Abby meet?" Abby snorted and leaned back in her chair, draining the rest of her wine glass.

Teddy glanced at his fiancé warily. "At an antique auction," he said. "We had a bidding war over a fainting couch."

"Wow," Casey said.

"Freakin inspiring," Derek tossed out. "Is there more bread?"

Abby glared at her son. "Teddy is a collector," she said. "He's got a very extensive collection." She gave Teddy a small smile.

"I wouldn't call it extensive. Or a collection." He shrugged. "More like a sophisticated-looking mess."

"Kinda like you," Derek said, nudging Casey's arm. She giggled.

"You two are sickening," Teddy said with a smile.

"Adorable." Abby rolled her eyes. "Is there more wine?"

"So long have you been together?" Teddy asked, lifting the bottle to refill Abby's glass, who gave a little 'eep', sitting up straighter in her chair to look at him in surprise.

"_Together?_" Derek gave an airy laugh. "Not _together._ Just _close._ Right Mom?"

Abby glared at him. "They're together." She gave a sideways glance at Teddy.

"How did you guess?" Casey asked.

Teddy shook his head bemusedly. "Little things can give it away," he said wisely. "And I saw you kissing outside the wine tasting the other night." Casey ducked her chin, smiling.

"Well that would help," Derek said, as Abby shrieked.

"You _saw_ them? And you didn't tell me?" She cleared her throat and lowered her voice. "I mean…you saw them, Teddy?"

"I thought you knew," Teddy said lowly.

"And what is that supposed to mean?" Abby hissed.

"That he assumed you'd be up to date on my life?" Derek spread out his hands in an overdramatic gesture. "The nerve."

Abby huffed, taking a gulp of wine. "Well," she said briskly. "You never answered his question. How long, Derek?"

Derek shrugged, looking at Casey. "Six years," he said. "Yeah, it was pretty much love at first sight. Couldn't keep our hands off each other. Dad and Nora still haven't gotten over the shock."

Casey rolled her eyes. "A few weeks," she said. "It was a little complicated."

"Get used to that," Teddy muttered. Abby shot him a glare.

"Look, Abby, I don't want you to feel uncomfortable about this…" Casey shifted uneasily and glanced at Derek, who raised an eyebrow at her. "I don't want you and Derek to fight over this."

Abby gave a pinched smile. "Don't worry about it, dear."

Derek sneered. "Wow, Mom. That really inspires confidence."

"Would you like me to make her a banner?" Abby snapped.

"Okay, so! Who hates this restaurant?" Casey raised her hand, slightly frantic. "I do!" She laughed nervously.

"I'd like you to maybe melt the Ice Queen exterior a little and stop treating Casey like something you pulled off your shoe," Derek snapped back.

"I treat _her_ fine. It's not _her _I have a problem with!"

"Yeah, your overwhelming love and affection is just shining through, Ma."

"I just don't understand how you can just think without acting, Derek!" Abby slammed her hand on the table, causing the cutlery to rattle ominously. "You've always been rash and impulsive, and I always knew – knew! – that it'd get you into trouble one day – "

"But I'm not trouble, Abby, I swear," Casey said nervously.

"Isn't it just a _tad_ hypocritical for you to lecture me on being impulsive when you're the one who just uprooted her entire life for a guy? Again?" Derek threw a dismissive look at his mother, scoffing beneath his breath. "Another fiancé, another city. After this guy's gone, where to next? A reporter in Paris? A ski instructor in Denver?" He raised an eyebrow. "Or maybe it's back to formula. A lawyer in Toronto?"

"You are not being fair!"

"Neither are you." Casey laid a hand on Derek's shoulder, feeling his tense muscles twitch beneath her hand.

"You are my son, and I do have a say in your life, no matter how old you are," Abby said. "Have you thought about this at _all?_ What will your parents think? Your _sister_?" She shook her head. "I just can't believe how thoughtless – "

"Thoughtless?" Derek repeated incredulously. "If you had any idea how much I've _thought_ about Casey – " he cut himself off when Casey looked at him, surprised. "You don't know, okay? How could you?"

Abby scoffed. "I think I have a pretty good idea what you were thinking so hard about."

"Go to hell," Derek spat.

"Okay," Teddy said firmly. "This isn't helping anything. Both of you back to your corners." Casey pulled on Derek's shoulder and he leaned back in his chair slowly, eyeing his mother.

"I really don't need your help on this one, Ted," Abby said lowly.

"I think you do."

"I think we're done," Derek said. He grabbed a shell-shocked Casey's hand, pulling her to her feet. "Call me when you grow up."

"How about I wait until you do," Abby shot back. Teddy rolled his eyes and pulled on Abby's arm, whispering into her ear.

"C'mon." Derek hurried her out of the restaurant, barely letting her grab her coat on the way out.

"Derek. Derek!" She stopped on the sidewalk, tugging on his arm, watching him literally deflate before her eyes.

"Sorry," he mumbled, turning away. "Sorry about that. Really."

"It's all right," she said softly. "What happened in there?"

"I have no idea." He sighed. "Look, can we just – " he laughed, a strained sound. "Can we just erase the past few hours? Rewind to the baseball game?" He grabbed her waist. "I kinda want to get into that vibe again."

"Oh, well." Casey patted her pockets dramatically. "Damn. I left my magic remote at home."

"Really."

"Yup. Right next to the unicorn food," she said.

"I'd wondered what all those weird whinnying noises were," he said.

"Yeah, well. Sparkles does have a temper."

"Sparkles?" Derek repeated incredulously. "Sparkles the unicorn. God, even your fake pets are lame."

"Sparkles resents that." Casey raised an eyebrow.

"Sparkles isn't real," he said. "Just like the last three hours, remember?"

Casey leaned into his chest, feeling his arms tighten around her. "I'm sorry," she murmured.

"Eh." He leaned his head down and kissed her shoulder. "Let's go home."

"Okay." He pulled back slightly and looked at her intently. She shifted uneasily beneath his scrutiny, smiling nervously. "What?"

"Nothing." He put his palms on her face and kissed her, instantly sucking all stability from her legs. Grasping onto his elbows, she leaned her weight on his chest, knees, hands and everything else shaking.

"That's…" she gasped for breath after he'd pulled back. "That's a whole lotta nothing."

He smiled. "I'll go get the car. Wait here, okay?" She nodded, still short of breath.

He gave one last smile and jogged off into the parking lot. Casey wrapped her arms around herself, trying to quell the shaking. She smiled giddily to herself, blowing out a long breath.

"He gone?"

Casey jumped, giving a little yelp. "Teddy," she said. "You scared me."

"Sorry," he said. "Derek's gone?"

"Um, getting the car," she said. She shifted uneasily, throwing a longing look in the direction Derek had gone. "He'll be right back," she said needlessly.

"I'd just like a minute," Teddy said. "Abby's inside." He threw a look at the double doors, and Casey followed his line of sight, seeing Abby staring intently at them. As soon as she caught them looking at her she whirled around, pretending to be fascinated with the carpet.

"Um, okay." Casey frowned warily.

"I'm sorry about the scene in there. Abby's not usually so…forceful," Teddy said.

"Abby doesn't usually catch me and Derek making out," Casey said.

Teddy's eyebrows shot to his hairline. "That's what happened?" Casey shrugged. "Oh. Well, that explains a lot."

"Sorry," she said.

"Not your fault." He sighed. "Anyway, that's not what I wanted to talk to you about."

"Really."

"Have you thought about what we discussed at the wine tasting?"

Casey blinked, taken off-guard. "What?"

"The job?" Teddy asked. "The thing is, I spoke with some people at the New York office, and they're desperate for a talent agent. I told them a little about you – or well, Abby did." Teddy shrugged. "They're dying to speak with you."

"N- New York?" Casey stuttered. "But – "

"No strings yet," Teddy said. "But I gave them your phone number. I hope that's all right."

"Um – "

Teddy glanced at Abby, who looked away quickly again. "And…well, Abby thinks you'd be wonderful. And so do I."

"Abby thinks so," Casey said blankly.

"And me," Teddy said. "Anyway, I just wanted to warn you. I didn't want you to be taken by surprise when they called."

Casey stared at him blankly, mind struggling to catch up. "Thanks," she said blandly.

A pair of headlights cut the night and Casey turned to see Derek pulling up in the drop-off lane. "Looks like your night in shining leather jacket is here," Teddy said wryly. "Hey, talk to him about Abby, okay? She didn't mean it, she's just upset."

Casey shook her head numbly. "Yeah. Whatever."

"Okay." Teddy gave a wave. "Bye."

"Bye." Casey climbed into the front seat of Derek's car, shutting the door with a sharp 'click.'

"Hey," Derek greeted, pulling the car into drive and heading out of the parking lot. "What was that about? With Teddy?"

Casey shrugged. "Apologizing for your mom."

"Oh." Derek's countenance darkened and he jerked the steering wheel around to pull out onto the main road. "Well, okay then."

"Yeah," Casey said distantly.

"Hey. Everything okay?"

She turned to see him glancing at her curiously out of the corner of his eye. She swallowed the lump in her throat and smiled. "I was okay," she said, grabbing his hand and entwining their fingers. "But I'm better now."

He smiled warmly, a smile that Casey had only seen emerge on him in the past few weeks, and squeezed her hand. She turned away as he brought his eyes back to the road, her forehead falling to rest on the cool window.

00


	18. Part Eighteen

00

Part Eighteen

00

"A job offer? In New York?" Parker tossed her hair and shot Casey a stern look. "Yeah, you'll need to tell Derek about that." 

"I know," Casey groaned. "I don't want to."

"Why not?" Parker muttered distractedly, bending down to reach beneath the couch. "Spring cleaning, spring schmeaning. You suck for doing this to me."

Casey shook out a pillow, coughing as a cloud of dust hit her in the face. "He's gonna take it the wrong way."

"Oh no, he'd be completely fine with you moving to another country a month after you two finally start a real relationship." Parker rolled her eyes. "This is something that you really need to tell him about before he finds out in some chick-lit Meg Cabot sort of way that totally makes everything worse. I mean duh, Case. Haven't you ever seen _Never Been Kissed?_"

"Your logic annoys me." Casey pulled an old t-shirt out from beneath the couch cushions and scoffed. "I swear to God, I'm going to lock that man in the laundry room until he washes his clothes himself."

"What is this job all about anyway?" Parker asked. "It sounds a little dodgy."

"I'd be like…the welcoming committee," she said. "Talking to new authors, helping them adjust. Finding new talent and judging whether or not they're worth taking a second look at."

"So you're like a literary talent scout?" Parker asked skeptically. "Wow. How Hollywood."

"It's a little more complicated than that," Casey said weakly. "Have you seen the Chlorox?"

"We're out," Parker replied. "Are you going to take it?"

"I haven't decided yet," Casey replied, focusing intently on wiping down the mantle.

"Uh huh."

"What?" Casey put her hands on her hips, dirty rag hanging from her fist. "What is that supposed to mean?"

Parker scoffed. "Casey, you're so dense sometimes. And I mean that in a nice way."

"How is that nice, in any way?"

"You have to think about it a little." Parker stood, knees creaking. "Ugh. Remind me why I'm helping to clean _your_ apartment?"

"Because Derek won't?"

Parker collapsed on the couch, throwing her rag on the coffee table. "Can we take a break? I'm think I have major dust inhalation."

Casey sighed, coming to sit next to her friend. "Fine."

"Wow, you must be bummed about this job thing," Parker said, surprised. "Normally you'd argue with me for another five minutes, at least."

"It seems so…foolish _not_ to take it," Casey said, leaning her head back against the couch cushion. "I haven't even graduated yet, and here's this job that falls into my lap…good benefits, room for advancement, more money than most recent grads get offered – "

"Yeah, okay, that's all fine," Parker said. "But you shouldn't take this job just because it seems like a good idea on paper."

"It's what I'm interested in," Casey pointed out. "Literature. Books. And I'd be in New York, working for one of the biggest publishing houses in the continent. I'd be right there, on the edge of everything."

"Mm," Parker replied quietly. "You need to speak to Derek about this."

"Speak to Derek about what?"

Both girls jumped, Casey whirling around to see none other than the man himself, jogging down the stairs. "Derek! What are you…doing up so early?"

"What were you doing vacuuming so early?" he teased, flicking her ponytail. "Don't tell me she's suckered you into her annual spring-cleaning-freakout, Park."

Parker shrugged. "I am a very good friend," she said sagely.

"Ah." Derek plopped down next to Casey, grinning cheekily. "So. Speak to me about what?"

"Um." Casey shot a glare at Parker.

"Wait, wait. Lemme guess. Threesome?" Both girls' glares swiveled to him. "No? Really?" He shook his head. "God, it happens so much easier in Penthouse."

"Classy," Casey said dryly.

"Okay, what is it, then?" Derek asked. "You're not dumping me are you?"

Casey bit her lip, and Parker rolled her eyes. "She got a job offer," she said.

"Parker!" Casey squeaked and glared at her.

Parker nudged her. "You're welcome." She jumped to her feet and dodged Casey's smack, smirking to herself. "Well, I'm outta here. Enjoy the fallout."

"Parker Forrester, you're dead," Casey vowed, leaning over the back of the couch. The redhead left the apartment swiftly, waving a hand over her shoulder. "Bitch."

"Okay then," Derek said, slightly amused. "So…you got a job offer?"

"Yeah," Casey said grumpily. "I really didn't want you to find out like that."

"Find out like what?" Derek shrugged. "What is it?"

"Well…" Casey bit her lip. "It's for Turntable."

"Teddy's company?" Derek raised an eyebrow. "Okay, what is the job?"

"I'd be…" Casey took a breath. "Like, a scout. I'd work with authors. Kind of like a talent agent. I'd also look for new authors who haven't been able to get published yet."

Derek stared at her blankly. "Huh."

"And…it'sinNewYork," she said quickly. "I'm sorry! I don't know what I'm going to do yet, and I wanted to talk to you first…I haven't given them an answer yet."

Derek was silent for a long moment. "Publishing?" he said finally, voice quiet.

"Yeah." Casey winced. "I was gonna tell you sooner, I swear, but…I don't know. I was afraid of how you'd react, and…you know. Teddy, and everything."

"Teddy?" Derek shook his head, staring off into space. "Teddy offered it to you?"

"Yeah." She swallowed thickly. "Are you mad?"

"Are you going to take it?" He raised his head to look at her, yet kept his gaze on her chin, not looking her in the eye.

She hesitated. "I…don't know yet."

He nodded slowly, as if to himself, and rose from the couch. "Well, I hope you have a good life in New York."

"Derek," Casey started, taken aback. "Wait – "

She grabbed his arm as he passed by her and he turned abruptly, wrenching himself free from her grip. "What?"

"Okay, you are mad," Casey said.

"No, no, not mad, exactly," Derek said scathingly. "Exasperated? Yeah. Disappointed? Yes. Frustrated? Definitely."

"I'm sorry," she replied. "But I don't know what I'm doing yet. I haven't decided."

"Yes you have," he shot back. "Don't give me this bullshit about 'maybe, maybe not.' You wouldn't have agonized over telling me if you were going to turn it down."

"I didn't know how you'd take it!" Casey defended herself. "Your soon-to-be stepfather was the one who offered to me, and that's not exactly a comfy subject for you."

"I don't care who _offered_ it to you!" Derek exclaimed, exasperated.

"Look, I – I know it's in New York, but we could work something out," she stammered. "You could finish film school here and then join me later, or I could wait to take it until after you graduate – "

"Ugh, that's not the point," he growled, running a hand through his hair. He took a deep breath, stepping backwards from her slightly. "I knew you'd have to move eventually, no matter where you worked, I was prepared for that – "

"So what's the problem?!"

"The _problem_," he said pointedly. "Is not the _commute._ It's the _job._"

"What are you talking about?" Casey asked, confused.

"What happened to writing?" he asked. "This is an executive job. You really want to spend your career spending all your time and energy to get _other people_ published?"

"I – " Casey stuttered. "Writing was just a – a fantasy, Derek, something I like to do, I never thought I could make a living off of it – "

"But you _could,_" Derek said. "You told me that it's how you express yourself. You said that 'writing is your life.' Where did that go?"

"It didn't _go_ anywhere, I – "

"You're just ignoring it," he finished for her.

"Stop!" she exclaimed, frustrated. "Just how am I supposed to write for a living, Derek? I have no formal training other than a bunch of stupid poetry classes and one – _one – _fiction class. Everything else I took for the Creative Writing minor was all Comp classes – "

"Since when do you have to take classes to know how to write?" he asked. "You've been doing it since we were teenagers; you didn't need to go to college for that."

"It's not that simple," she said. "It's an incredibly competitive business, and I – I'd have to be totally dedicated to getting my work published, and I – "

"You're scared," he said derisively.

"I am _not,"_ she said angrily. "It's not realistic."

"You do this all the time," he bit out. "You back away at the last second and I'm _so sick_ of it, you have no idea."

"How am I backing away?" she exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air. "I start thinking in terms of real life rather than some 12th grade fantasy, and suddenly I'm 'scared'?" She held up her hands and made air quotes with her fingers. "It's called being a responsible adult, you should try it some time."

"Oh, okay, and now we're onto the blaming stage," he replied. "Why don't you find a new tune, already?"

"Why are you doing this?" Casey stomped her foot petulantly. "Why can't you be _happy_ for me?"

"Because you're not happy!" he burst out. "You're _not_! And for the life of me I cannot figure out why you are so determined to hold yourself back!"

"That's ridiculous," she scoffed, voice wavering.

"It's not." He shook his head, taking a step forward so they were standing face-to-face. "You are the most passionate person I know, but you insist on smothering it all. You have the potential to be so many things but you never, _ever_ take advantage of it." His gaze darkened. "You miss out on so many things because you're afraid of what you can do, and _that_ is what's ridiculous."

"That's – " her voice broke. "That's not true."

"It is." He reached out a hand as if to touch her face, but withdrew it at the last second, taking a step back and exhaling angrily. "I could just…_shake_ you. Jesus, Casey."

She swallowed past the lump in her throat. "If you know so much about me, then why don't you tell me what to do?" she said scornfully.

His eyes flickered and he took another step back, face closing off. "You want me to tell you what to do? Fine." He held his hands up. "Go to New York. Bury yourself in _other_ people's passion. Find some investment banker or trust-fund brat who won't _care_ if you fade away, and in ten years I'll come to visit you and your _perfect _house in the fucking suburbs." He smirked bitterly. "Make sure you find a doctor who's liberal with the Prozac."

"Fuck you," she spat.

"Yeah." He turned away tiredly. "Whatever."

She stood frozen as he walked away, grabbing his jacket from the banister and slamming the door on his way out. She waited another moment, then jerkily turned and headed for the kitchen, making it to Derek's armchair before collapsing into tears.

00

"Casey." Parker's voice was calm and soothing, even over the phone line. "Calm down. He isn't leaving _you,_ he just left the apartment."

"He's been gone for like, five hours," Casey said, sniffling. "I'm such an idiot. I'm an idiot, aren't I? Tell me the truth."

"Well…"

"Parker!"

"Look," Parker said. "He probably went to blow off some steam with Tim, or something. He'll be back."

"I already called Tim," Casey said despairingly. "He hasn't seen Derek all day."

"Casey. Derek's a big boy, he isn't going to get kidnapped."

Casey sighed. "He's not answering his cell."

"Well, you had a fight. Of course he won't answer."

She groaned. "I'm such an idiot."

"What was he so angry about? You moving to New York?"

"No," Casey said. "He thinks I'm running away. He thinks the job isn't right for me." She scoffed. "It's so like him. He's insecure and taking it out on me. Right?" Parker was silent. "Park – er!"

"Case – y," Parker said back. "Didn't I tell you the same thing? That you shouldn't take it just because it seems like a good idea?"

"Well." Casey groaned. "He was mean about it."

"_Casey._"

"Fine." Casey sniffled again. "I just wish he'd call me back."

"He needs some time to cool down. You both do."

"Yeah." She wiped her face tiredly, sleeve coming away wet. "Do you agree with him?"

Parker sighed. "Honey, I don't know what it is he thinks, exactly."

"He thinks I'm scared," Casey said hesitantly. "That I never take advantage of my potential, and that if I go to New York I won't be happy."

Parker was quiet. "You want the truth?"

Casey bit her lip. "Y – yes."

"Then yeah, I agree with him." Casey sucked in a sharp breath. "Casey, I've known you for four years, and I am your best friend. I know you very, very well, but Derek?"

"Derek what?" Casey asked nervously.

"Derek's known you a lot longer. He's lived with you for how many years?" Parker made a 'mmm' small sound with her throat. "He knows so much about you; so much more than I do. You don't give him enough credit."

Casey gave a small sob. "I know that. Really."

"Then take his advice, sweetie," Parker said softly. "Did you really want this job in the first place? Think about it. Really?"

Casey did think about it. Living in New York, hunting down author after author, spending weeks and weeks working her ass off only to have someone else with their name on the cover in the end? Yeah right. "No," she said honestly. "I don't _want_ it. But it's just…"

"Yeah, a good job, good benefits. Perfect," Parker finished for her. "For someone else. Not you."

Casey closed her eyes. "Yeah," she said quietly. "You're right."

"Okay." Parker sighed. "I'm sorry I told him. I should've let you do it."

"No, no." Casey laughed tiredly. "You were right about that, too, I wouldn't have told him. He would've ended up hearing it from his mother, or something." She shuddered. "Can you imagine?"

"Not willingly." Parker laughed a little. "Look, just calm down. Put the ice cream away and do something productive. He'll be back and you two will work it out."

"I wasn't…eating ice cream," Casey said unconvincingly, glaring at the tub of Ben & Jerry's on the coffee table.

"Uh huh," Parker responded affectionately. "Just get off your ass, McDonald. Call me if you need anything."

"Okay." She smiled. "Thanks, Parker. Really."

"You're welcome, crazy."

Casey smiled fondly to herself as she said her goodbyes and hung up the phone, letting it fall to the couch beside her. Still dressed in her ratty cleaning shorts and sweater, she grimaced, rising from the couch per Parker's advice and heading for the stairs, dropping the empty ice cream container in the garbage on the way.

Freshly showered and dressed, Casey grabbed her laptop from where it'd been charging in Derek's room – which technically had become _their_ room in the last few weeks. She took it back down to the living room and collapsed into Derek's armchair, snuggling into the cushions.

Something productive? Well, then.

She opened up her computer and booted it up, staring in trepidation at the screen. It wasn't that she didn't want to write, she told herself. She just didn't know if she was good enough. Sure she could get published in the newspaper; she could get her poetry into the literary magazine on campus, but for real? Her work honest to god published, sold in bookstores and coffee shops and She took a moment to envision it and felt herself shrink in fear, stomach dropping and hands growing shaky.

She was scared. Downright terrified, actually, and Derek had called her on it. Worse, he'd thrown the worst possibility of her future in her face. And wasn't worst thing about that little vision he'd framed out for her was that it _was _all too possible? She may not be the most self-aware person on the planet, but she did know her own brain a little, and she knew she was one of those people who could all too easily fall into something that horrible, all the while pretending that nothing was wrong. And Derek knew that.

_"Find some investment banker or trust-fund brat who won't care if you fade away, and in ten years I'll come to visit you and your perfect house in the fucking suburbs." _

She bit her lip, his words echoing in her head. No way would she let that happen. Ever.

She studied her computer screen intently, brining up the folder of documents that held the original fiction that she'd written so far. She moved her cursor down the list of titles and shook her head, instead opening up a new, fresh document.

She glanced at her cell phone, lying silent on the coffee table.

_"You miss out on so many things because you're afraid of what you can do, and that is what's ridiculous." _

"Here goes nothing," she whispered. And then, focusing her eyes on the screen, Casey began to write.

00


	19. Part Nineteen

00

Part Nineteen

00

It was dark by the time Derek returned home, damp and cold from the dreary spring rain falling softly outside. He shed his jacket in the hallway and stopped short at the entrance to the living room.

Casey was wrapped up in a blanket in his armchair, laptop at her feet and cell phone in her lap. Her ponytail was a mere suggestion by then, hair strewn across her shoulders and mussed against the back of the chair. One leg poked out from the blanket, bare skin prickling in the cold air from the front door.

He sighed and rubbed his hands to warm them, trailing one hand down her shin. "Casey."

She stirred slightly, murmuring. "Huh?"

"It's me." He bent down to her level, palm stopping on her thigh. "Case."

She blinked her eyes open groggily. "Derek?"

"Hey, crazy girl."

She gasped and sat up suddenly. "Derek!" She grabbed his neck and hugged him with a cry, then pulled back and punched his shoulder. "You asshole. I left you like, eighty messages."

"I know," he said wryly. "I stopped listening after you started quoting Ghandi."

She blushed. "Well – " she huffed. "Where the hell were you?"

He shrugged. "I went to Ben's for awhile, hung out with Haley." He nudged her and she scooted over, letting him slip into the armchair and pull her into his lap. "What were you doing?"

"Writing."

"Really?" His voice was guarded.

She shrugged, tucking her face into his neck. "Yeah."

He sighed. "I shouldn't have yelled at you."

"Well…no, you shouldn't have."

"You just drive me so crazy," he said softly, letting his eyes fall shut.

"Ditto, Venturi." Casey tilted her chin up to look at his face in the dim light from the kitchen. "Listen, about the job."

His eyes flew open. "I didn't mean to – "

"I know." Casey sighed. "Derek, I don't know what to do. I…I want to write, I do. I just…I don't know if I can do it."

"You can do anything you want to do," he said.

She smiled wanly. "I've never put anything I've written up against any real criticism," she said. "I don't have any scale other than…you and Parker."

"You know you're good, Casey."

"Maybe."

He ran his knuckles up her neck, making her shiver. "Look, I know that it's weird and scary, okay? Trust me."

"Yeah…"

"Really. I'd be a sports management major right now if I hadn't taken the big leap, remember?"

She smiled. "I forget about that sometimes. You nearly gave your dad a heart attack."

He smirked half-heartedly. "Somebody has to keep the guy on his toes."

Her smile turned sad. "Derek, I'm not ready yet. I'm just not." She sighed. "Let me see if I can explain this right…" she chewed on her bottom lip, looking decidedly adorable.

"Just try," Derek said, throat tight.

"Okay, well – " she grabbed at the collar of his shirt, smoothing it down absentmindedly, fidgeting with the material. "I don't really want this job, okay? It's a little strange sounding, not to mention the fact that the only reason I'm getting it is because Teddy wants an in with you."

"Not necessarily." Casey gave him a look. "Well, maybe. Partly."

"Yeah, regardless of his motivations, it's just a little too nepotistic for my taste." She paused. "That means I got the job because I'm related to the boss."

"I knew that." Derek frowned at her. "I did!"

"Right." Casey cracked a small smile. "But then there's the fact that the money is fantastic, there's housing included, insurance, vacation, stuff like that. Not to mention the contacts I'd make and the experience I'd get."

"You shouldn't take a job based on how practical it is."

"I know." Casey quieted, chewing on her lip again.

"But you're going to anyway," Derek concluded.

"I just…I feel like I need this, in a way." She screwed up her face. "Remember that internship you had at the NHL office?"

"How could I forget three months of hell?" Derek grimaced.

"Exactly. You hated it there." Casey shook her head. "I remember, later on into it, when it got really bad for you? I'd bring you some lunch every day, and you always looked horrible. Just…slumped down and tired and defeated." She drifted off slightly, eyes growing distant into memory.

Derek shifted uncomfortably, recalling those lunch visits that at that point, had been the only good thing about his days. "Not one of the higher points of my life, no."

"I hated seeing you like that," Casey confessed softly.

"Well, I hated you seeing me like that." Derek sighed. "What does this have to do with you, exactly?"

Casey straightened up slightly. "Well, that internship was a huge part of why you switched majors, right? I mean, you'd been toying with the idea of…well, not going into sports – but that internship really cinched it. You went in to talk to your advisor like, the day after you quit." Casey paused, trying to find a way to phrase her thoughts. "And I – I feel like I need something like that, you know? I need to try it. Because you already sort of knew when you applied that you wanted to transfer."

Derek huffed, frustration building back up. "Casey, there are so many things wrong with that, I don't know where to start."

"I know I shouldn't be comparing myself to you, but this is how I feel," Casey protested quickly. "I need to do it. I need to prove to myself that it isn't what I want."

Derek shut his mouth abruptly to swallow the nasty retort bubbling up. Smoothing his hands down her shoulders, he tried to remain calm. "Casey. You realize that this sounds insane."

"I know." Her face creased and she eyed him worriedly. "Please don't hate me for this."

"I'm not going to hate you," Derek said, exasperated. "I couldn't hate you if I tried. And believe me, I say that from experience."

She snorted a little, moving her hands to rest on his chest. "I need to at least try it," she said quietly. "I need to prove to myself that I can do it – but that I don't _want_ to do it. Does that make sense?"

"No," Derek said, clenching his jaw. "And…kind of."

"Tell me this is okay." She laid her forehead on his shoulder.

He was silent for a little bit, running his hand up and down her forearm. "It's okay, Case," he said finally, tightening his grip on her.

"Promise me you won't let me forget what you said," she replied. "About the trust-fund brats and the suburbs?"

He winced. "Yeah, that was outta line."

"No, I – " she shook her head. "I won't ever become that, I promise. You have to promise never to let me."

"Never."

They sat in silence for a few moments, and Casey felt her eyelids drooping once more, breath aligning with Derek's until her body was rising and falling in tune with his.

"We'll have to figure some things out," she murmured.

"Later."

She let herself relax, focusing on the feel of his skin against hers. As darkness slowly ascended, she felt one slip of consciousness bubble to the surface, flickering through her mind as fleetingly as a candle's flame. "Mm'love you," she mumbled. She felt his breath hitch, and just as quickly, she fell asleep.

00

"I just can't believe my baby is graduating!"

"Oof." Casey spit out a mouthful of Nora's hair, face scrunching up. "Uh, Mom?"

"Sorry, sorry." Nora stepped back, wiping her eyes. "I'm just so proud of you. I knew you'd make it, but still." She laughed shakily, smoothing Casey's bangs behind her ears. "You're such a wonderful person, Casey. I've always been proud of you and I always will be."

"Thanks, Mom." Casey hugged her willingly this time, laughing as she felt herself tearing up a bit as well. "I haven't cried this much since Degrassi was cancelled," she said, laughing.

Nora pulled back, wiping at Casey's cheeks. "Embrace the mushiness."

"Did someone say mushiness?" Parker showed up, clad in an identical gown as Casey's, hat askew over her mussed, red hair. "Omigod we're done!"

Derek and Tim, behind Parker, threw each other wary glances and stepped back. "They're gonna scream," Derek said, just before both Parker and Casey started to shriek.

Parker grabbed Casey around the neck and the girls jumped up and down, laughing. "Can you believe it?! I can't believe it. Can you?!"

"No!" Casey shook her hair out of her eyes, throwing her hat off her head in the process. "No more papers, no more annoying professors, no more dead weeks – "

"Rub it in, why don't you," Derek piped up. "Some of us still have a semester to go."

Casey stuck out her tongue at him as Nora grappled with her camera. "Derek!" Nora called. "Come here and take some pictures with us. I've got a bunch of Casey, but none with you."

"I'm not graduating," he protested as Casey grabbed his arm.

"Details," Nora replied. "Indulge a mother."

"Strike a pose, dahling," Tim called, affecting a fake French accent. "The camera – it lohves you."

"Never call me darling ever, ever again," Derek warned just as the flash went off right in his face. "Hey!"

"Come on, come on," Nora prodded. Derek rolled his eyes and wrapped his arm around Casey's shoulders, kicking her ankle discreetly. She made a face and elbowed him in response as Nora clicked away.

"Aww," Parker teased. "You guys are just precious, really. Like Troy and Gabriella, but with creepier subtext." 

"Wouldn't that just make us Ryan and Sharpay?" Derek asked. "Sexy maraca dance. Am I right?" Parker giggled.

"Let's not go there," Casey interrupted. "Mom, you didn't hear that, right?"

"Hear what?" Nora blinked. "You guys talking about how great it is to be _stepsiblings_?" She raised an eyebrow and pretended to fiddle with the camera.

"That's it," Derek replied, snorting.

"Oh!" Parker glanced at her watch, jumping up. "Tim, we've gotta go if we don't wanna be late."

"Late?" Derek asked.

"Tim and I are going to lunch with my parents," Parker said proudly.

Derek burst into laughter while Casey froze, expression creased in confusion. "You're…your parents? You want your parents? To meet him?" she stammered.

Parker shrugged, grinning, while Tim puffed out his chest. "I'm a parent-charmer. Right, Nora?"

Nora snorted. "Do I have to answer that truthfully?"

"Good going, man. It's like you're an actual boyfriend," Derek said, clapping him on the back. "Just don't hit on her mom and you'll be fine.

"Oh thanks a lot, Greg Brady." Tim rolled his eyes. "Besides, I just wanna meet her brother. What's his name again, Parks? Timber?"

"I thought it was Ranger," Derek said. "Or Smokey."

"Ha ha, yes, I have a themed name," Parker said flatly. "Like I haven't heard them all by now. Name a new tune."

"Isn't your brother's name Art?" Casey said.

Derek piped up. "I met him once. One word: repression." Tim guffawed loudly.

"Art Forrester?" Nora shuddered. "What a cruel thing to do to a child."

"Try being Parker Forrester," Parker replied bitterly.

"Yeah, what's your mom's maiden name again? Garfunk – ow!" Tim rubbed his arm where Parker had smacked him. "Watch it, lady love, I have sensitive triceps."

Parker grabbed a scowling Tim's arm and dragged him away. "We'll call you if someone ends up dead," she sing-songed. "Have fun with your family, guys!"

"Bye!" Casey waved, giggling as Parker practically pulled Tim away by his ear. "That's something I never thought I'd see."

"Maybe it's good for him," Nora mused. "Maybe he's maturing."

"Or maybe he doesn't know what he's getting into," Derek countered.

Nora rolled her eyes as her cell phone trilled from inside her purse. She thrust the camera at Derek, digging inside of her bag for the phone. "Can never _find_ this thing – ugh." She pulled it out, scowling, and flipped it open. "Hello? George?" She waved a hand at Derek and Casey. "I can't hear you, honey. George?!"

Nora moved away to yell into her phone, leaving Derek and Casey alone for the first time all day. Casey immediately threw her arms around his neck, dropping her hat on the ground carelessly. He grunted and caught her around the waist, staggering backwards a few steps. "Uh, hi."

"Hi," she replied. "This is crazy."

"Yeah." He sighed and tightened his hold on her waist. "Are you gonna tell them about New York today?"

He felt her nod into his neck. "At dinner, probably."

"Okay."

She turned and kissed his jaw, fisting her hands in his jacket. "I wish things weren't happening so quickly."

"I know what you mean." Derek pulled back, sliding his hands down to her hips. "Listen, Case." He faltered slightly, blowing out a nervous breath.

She smiled comfortingly. "What is it?"

"I – "

"I hate cell phones. Really, I do." Nora came back at that moment, causing the couple to spring apart. "Okay, so I talked to George, and they're still stuck on the freeway. They're all really sorry they missed the ceremony, Case."

"That's okay," Casey assured her, wincing. "You, uh. Taped it anyway."

"Was standing on your chair really necessary?" Derek asked. "You were about five seconds from really pissing off the security guard."

Nora waved a dismissive hand. "I could've taken him."

"I don't doubt it."

"Well, we could all head over to the restaurant now," Nora suggested, glancing at her watch. "Get a table. They should be here in a couple hours and we can…draw on the tablecloths."

"Or we can just eat and let them get their own food," Derek replied.

"That's rude," Casey said. "We'll save them some breadsticks."

"Right. That's much more polite."

"Well, you're the ones who live here," Nora said. "What else can we do to kill a couple hours?"

"Surprisingly, Mom, Toronto is actually just as boring as London. There's just more of it." Casey shrugged. "Unless you wanna go to a bar, then we've got you covered."

"I haven't stepped foot in a bar since my third date with George," Nora replied, a small frown drifting over her face. "Yeah, not an experience to repeat."

"Restaurant it is then," Derek said decisively, pulling Casey along by her waist. "Call Dad back and tell him to stop at Burger King, I'm starving."

"Actually, Derek – " Casey pulled him aside slightly. "I'm gonna tell her now."

"Are you sure?" Casey nodded. "Okay, well. Ride with her then. I'll meet you guys there."

"Thank you." She reached up and kissed his cheek softly.

Derek laid his hands on her upper arms in response. "Good luck."

"You guys are just so affectionate. I'm so glad you're _friends_ now," Nora cut in, grinning in that infuriating McDonald way. "Aren't you guys glad? Now we can finally be one big happy family."

"You're cruel, Nora," Derek said, wincing. "And please don't ever refer to us as family ever again."

"What a mean thing to say." Nora nudged her daughter. "Casey, tell your brother that was mean."

"Mom, cut it out." Casey dodged out of the way of her mother's elbow, glaring. "Come on, I'll ride with you. You're just gonna get lost anyway."

"You're being mean now, too," Nora said.

"I get it from you," Casey replied. She glanced over her shoulder at Derek, who made a face at her. She grinned and stuck out her tongue.

"Aw."

"Shut _up_, Mom."

00

"So what's up, girlie?" Nora asked, slipping her sunglasses onto her face.

"Mother," Casey replied, feigning shock. "I just wanted the pleasure of your company."

"And give up time with your dear brother?"

"I beg of you by all that is holy, please stop that."

"It's just fun to see you make that face," Nora replied.

Casey rolled her eyes. "You know about me and Derek, okay? And we're sorry for not telling you."

"Pathetic," Nora said. "But the best apology I can hope for, I guess."

"Are you mad?" Casey asked.

Nora paused. "Maybe a little," she finally said. "I'd be even more mad if I hadn't seen it coming a mile away. And if I hadn't taken out all my freak-outs on George."

"We weren't _that_ obvious," Casey protested.

"You kind of were." Nora smirked. "Shall I bring up your eighteenth birthday – "

"Please don't," Casey interrupted.

"Well, it took you long enough." Nora paused. "But if you have sex in my house, I'll kill you both."

"Fair enough." Casey smiled as Nora took one hand off the steering wheel to shake Casey's. "But that's not what I wanted to talk to you about."

"No, really?"

"I got a job." Casey took a breath. "In New York."

Nora lifted her sunglasses slightly and glanced over at her daughter. "Does Derek know?"

"Yeah. He's known for awhile."

"Huh." Nora turned back to the road. "Well that explains a few things."

"What things?"

Nora cleared her throat. "What's the job?"

"You know Teddy, Abby's new fiancé?" Nora nodded. "His company, Turntable Books. I'd be a publishing executive type…person. Scouting for new authors, mainly."

"That sounds incredibly…convenient," Nora managed.

"Yeah, I'm aware." Casey sighed. "It's…this whole long story that Derek doesn't understand and I don't even really get myself, so don't ask."

"Oookay."

"The thing is that I'm kind of freaking out internally, you know?" Casey laughed nervously, fluttering her hands around her face. "Because Derek's all weird around me, and I can tell he's trying to be all normal and happy and everything, and he's trying to support whatever I want to do and that's really, really sweet – like I can't even _believe_ how sweet he's being – "

"I can," Nora interrupted. "And take a breath, your face is getting red."

Casey paused as instructed. "But…but I can tell that it's bothering him because every once in awhile I'll catch him staring at me with this strange look on his face, or he'll start to say something and then stop, and meanwhile I'm trying to keep calm and work everything out, taking care of graduation stuff and leaving college stuff and moving away stuff, and I'm trying not to completely break down because I feel like he's going to dump me or something, and I – I can't _handle this._" Casey took a shuddering breath and raised a hand to her forehead, frowning deeply.

"Honey, I'm pretty sure he's not gonna dump you. And I'm also pretty sure that you know that."

Casey sighed. "I know. I think."

"You're moving away," Nora said. "Things are bound to be a little strained, sweetie."

"I know." She paused. "It's not even about that. I don't think."

Nora pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant and pulled into a space and turning in her seat slightly. "Look. I don't know exactly what's going on with you and Derek, but I do know _you,_ and the best thing you can do is keep breathing and try and stay calm." Nora held up a hand to stop Casey's protest. "I love you, but you freak _yourself_ out, honey."

"Well. True."

"Just talk to him." Nora turned off the ignition, smiling slightly. "And remember to leave out the details when you tell me about it later."

Casey took a shaky breath. "Got it."

00

"Remind me why we talk to those people?"

"Family," Casey replied, tossing her jacket on the edge of Derek's armchair. "I'm pretty sure."

"Thank God they're not spending the night."

"At least they took the news well," Casey said.

"Yeah, after my dad stopped crying." Derek rolled his eyes and collapsed onto the couch. Casey sat down next to him, silent. "Hey."

"Yeah?"

"You're a college graduate."

A small smile crept onto her face. "I know."

He nudged her leg. "Don't fight it. I know you want to squeal."

"I do not." She tried and failed to stop the huge grin from taking over her mouth. "Oh my God, I'm never going back." Her face crumpled. "Oh my God, Derek, I'm never going back."

He laughed despite himself, gesturing for her kindly. "C'mere."

She climbed into his lap and sniffled pathetically, burying her face in his chest. "It's so _sad._"

"Please don't cry," he groaned. "Seriously. I cannot handle a Casey freakout tonight." He rubbed her back briskly and she burrowed into him deeper, muffling sobs into his shirt. "Casey?"

She gave a small hiccup, pulling back slightly to wipe her face on her sleeve. "Sorry."

"It's okay," Derek said uncertainly. "Tears wash out of my shirts pretty easily, I've found." Casey's face crumpled again. "Hey, hey, you're supposed to laugh at that, not cry more."

"I'm sorry," she said fervently.

Derek studied her face. "What's in your head, Case?"

She wiped at her face again, eyes wide and red. "I…there's just so much going on and I…"

"Hey." He grabbed her hands and brought them away from her face so he could capture her gaze. "Just breathe, okay?"

She gave a choked laugh. "Everyone keeps telling me that."

"It's good advice."

"I don't wanna leave you," she said, crumpling into tears again. "I'm sorry."

He paused, slightly taken aback. "Oh."

She buried her face in his shoulder, shoulders hitching. "I'm sorry."

"Okay. Shh." He smoothed his hand up her back to her neck, sliding his fingers through her hair. "Listen, there's something I've been meaning to talk to you about – or tell you. I guess."

"That I'm a horrible girlfriend who deserves to be miserable the rest of her life?" mumbled Casey. "I already know that."

"Hey, you called yourself my girlfriend."

"…did not."

"Shut up. I so heard you."

He felt her smile into his neck. "Lapse in judgment."

"Look at me, crazy girl." She sniffed and sat up, moving her chin to his arm. "You're…um. Okay."

Casey wiped at her face again, still flushed and wet from the tears that were slowly dying away. "Is this you comforting me?"

"Cut me some slack here, I'm trying to be all meaningful and stuff." He knocked her hand away from her face again and wiped her cheek with the back of his hand, smoothing away the last vestiges of her tears. "I know I freaked out about the New York thing, but if it's something you need to do, then…you should do it."

Casey sighed. "Derek…"

Derek slid his hand over her mouth. "Just hush for a minute." Casey nodded. "The thing is…I don't know if you've noticed this, but you're kind of important to me, and…as horrible as the idea is of you living in another country is, I really don't want to mess this up, okay?"

"You're not messing it up," Casey said quietly. "I think you're doing better than I am."

"I'm serious about this, okay?" Derek said, looking at her intently. "I just need to make sure you know that."

"I do." Casey nodded.

"Okay." Derek moved his hands to the sides of her face, brushing his forehead against hers. "We're gonna be okay, Case. As long as you just…breathe, and try not to freak out. Okay?"

"Yeah. I hope so." She threw her arms around his neck. "I love you, Derek." His breath caught and she babbled quickly, hugging him tightly, not daring to pull back and look at his face. "I just – I'm leaving pretty much in a couple of days, and I wanted to say it to you before I left, and – I don't want it to be weird, I just wanted you to know. So – I don't want to pressure you or – "

"Casey." He stopped her flow of words. "Breathe, remember?"

She laughed nervously. "Sorry."

"Don't be sorry." He pulled her back, prying her arms from around his neck. "Kiss me."

She giggled in relief and obliged, letting him press her down into the couch cushions, entangling his legs with hers. She squirmed beneath the weight of his body, trying her hardest to be as close to him as possible.

Finally pulling away to breathe, Casey quickly pressed her face into his collarbone, squinting her eyes shut. "Love you," she murmured.

He shuddered. "Say that again."

"I love you."

He gave a low growl and shifted downwards, laying his head down on her shoulder. "Casey."

"Mmm." She twined her fingers through his hair, feeling his head rise and fall with her breath. "We're gonna be okay," she said, repeating his earlier words.

He relaxed at her words, eyes falling shut. "Yeah." He swallowed thickly, feeling a little dizzy from the intoxicating warmth of her body. "We'll be fine." They lay there in comfortable but loaded silence, each wrapped in their own thoughts, both of them slowly drifting off into a heavy sleep.

00

You guys are fantastic for sticking with me all through this. This was my first LWD fic and it's been a constant throughout the entire time I've been in this fandom. It's a little weird to think of it ending, since when I started this we had what, fifty stories in our section? Now look how huge and wonderful we are.

This is one of the best fandoms I've ever had the pleasure of being a part of. It just makes me happy in this really great, pure way, and I love that. So I thank you all from the bottom of my fangirl heart. Love and solidarity, you guys. That's what it's all about.

The last chapter's still to come. And again – you all make this fandom such a fun place. Keep it up.


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